Return of Deathless Hero
by Naosj
Summary: A young hero, born under a Daedric starsign, has lived, loved and loss. Born in England, raised in Cyrodiil, and cast tumultuously back to Earth.  This is the story about his journey back to Tamriel to reclaim what death took. Plus Metal Gear
1. Chapter 1

**Return of Deathless Hero**

**Notes**

This is a continuation to a story that I never got to publish because of a hard drive crash. I decided to screw the rewriting the whole thing and start the story where I left off, incorporating flashbacks, references, and hints.

Although I made many key alterations to the game's storyline, this is still an Oblivion: The Elder Scrolls crossover story. I wanted the father figure of the story to be the Archmage of the Arcane University, but at the same time I needed to have Gerrard go on many of the side quests that intersect with the Champion of Cyrodiil. My solution was make the Champion, not some random chump from prison, but the Archmage, Archmage Arkland (Hannibal Traven never got the job and he's still Anvil). Now I was able to have Gerrard arrive in the middle of the main quest (He needed to for a very tragic reason), as the Oblivion gates started opening and have Gerrard go thorough the mage's quest storyline in addition to many others.

In addition, the mod, "Midas Magic," plays a key role in both the abilities of Gerrard and a crucial moment of his life. Aside from that, I just took the sandbox aspect of Oblivion and ran with it, giving him his version a "Golden Trio," putting him on a journey of self-discovery, having him experience romance & love, etc.

I also allude to many different games, myths, and other stories, but I don't think I'll include them in-depth in any sort of way. I'm certainly not going to turn this into a convoluted mega-crossover with all the main characters getting together for a picnic. The main point of those allusions is simply having them exist. Their existence alone keeps everyone in a struggle for power, so that even if one story ends and someone believes they're at the top, there's always going have a peer keeping them from arrogantly sitting at the pinnacle. Actually, just by having "Magic the Gathering" being part of the story means that every single king sits with the Sword of Damocles above their heads.

**Chapter 1: Out of the Veil**

Gerrard stepped out of the veil, fully expecting to cast a quick chameleon illusion over himself and quietly sneak out through the path Croaker had shown him, but instead found himself catching a very much unconscious and tumbling Sirius Black. "What? This oaf again?" thought Gerrard to himself, before catching on to the battle occurring around him. He noted they were once again Death Eaters, some he recognized as Bellatrix, Nott, the twin lumbering louts, and Malfoy and many others he didn't, covered by masks (This version has Voldemort bringing a bit more canon fodder with him on his attack, thus delaying Dumledore in another room and letting only the other Order members help Harry first.). The other side seemed to be aurors or perhaps the tenacious old fool's Order, which included to his exasperated surprise his brother, James Jr. Potter. Much to his misfortune, Gerrard found that all eyes were suddenly on him. Some carried curiosity behind them, others cautious study, and strangely his arrogant brothers had a look of relief. But the sudden realization that he had just saved Sirius from what they probably presumed was his demise made him see why.

Like the quiet before the storm and pandemonium erupted as someone shouted, "GET HIM!" Who the "him" was exactly was something he direly hoped was one of the many other combatants scattered about the room. But in any case there was spell fire was directed towards him and he acrobatically leapt atop the sides of the veil, hastily cast a _Midas Smokescreen_, and darted under cover to the columns by the exit way. Not wasting time he blasted a _Midas Fireworks_ into the far corner of the chamber, drawing the attention of most and followed with a _Plasma Stream_ on a line of three nameless Death Eaters. Losing the element of stealth, he moved into the fray in earnest. Summoning a twirling Goldbrand around his person to protect against any fools daring enough to move in close, Gerrard danced through many different colored beams of light that he began to notice were coming from the aurors as much as the Death Eaters. He used_ grim shocking touch_, one of his signature spells, paralyzing another two Death Eaters and three auror types that were attacking him and leaving them in shocking, convulsing agony for a few moments.

Just like the last time they met at the Temple of Frozen Souls, Nott had recklessly charged into him hoping to fire off a point blank Avada Kedavra, but instead of the blood draining wires from the floating masks, Goldbrand cleaved into his arm, causing his entire body to burst into flame. If having the entire Order appear and turning the tide wasn't bad enough, Lucious was shocked to see one of the Inner Circle, the most experienced of the Dark Lord's duelists, turned to ash from just a mere nick by that nasty blade. "REGROUP!" he barked out anxiously.

Regardless of Dumbledore's foolhardy optimistic ramblings, Lucious knew aurors weren't above killing. However, they had done it with the normal repertoire of Bombardas and Incendios. This new foe had a vicious streak. Although he wasn't killing the Order's, his spells were if not dark still equally murderous. And that blade ... "What were the Unspeakables hiding here!" roared Lucious in his mind. Looking around again and finding Death Eaters still caught in duels he shouted more loudly, "RETREAT!" and turned towards the hallway with more Death Eaters in tow this time.

Nymphadora Tonks was kneeling over a convulsing scarred old man, quickly casting dispels, healing charms, and stuffing potions down his throat. "Damn it Moody! Get a hold of yer' self!" Tonks was wracked with confusion over the state of the battle. Who was that boy? Did he really just come out of the blasted Veil of Death! Things went INTO the veil, not came out! And those spells! He didn't say a word. He wasn't even using a wand! For Mad-Eye Moody to go down with just a touch was almost unthinkable. He certainly didn't seem to be a Death Eater if the line of corpses was any indication, but looking back at fellow wounded Order members being levitated to the defended sections he obviously wasn't a friend neither. However, she supposed things could have been worse, since the Death Eaters were being forced into a retreat. She needed to contact Dumbledore. Seeing that Moody has stabilized and was coming to, she back to the entry point they blasted through into the execution room. He was only a few rooms over dealing with the werewolves they encountered.

Harry Potter had ran to his downed godfather in the beginning of the fray and dragged him out into the hallway. A quick _Enervate_ had brought him back into his senses and the two stumbled off into the corner of the antechamber to the execution room. "W- Wha- What happened?" mumbled a still dazed Sirius. "You got smacked in the face with a stunner. That's what happened. You're lucky that Bellatrix didn't have the energy to throw out anything stronger. You're lucky that you didn't fall into the wizard's guillotine! What were you thinking taunting in the middle of a duel! Didn't you - "

"Okay, okay. That's enough. I was being an idiot. What caught me anyway?" asked Sirius in a curious tone. "I could have sworn I was less then a foot away from that thing. Wanted to bait the insane bint into casting something big, so she'd leave an opening, ya see."

Harry began "It was –" but stopped when he realized what he saw. "Someone – a boy came out of the veil."

"What! Harry. That was the Veil of Death. People don't come OUT of the Veil of Death."

"I know, but I know what I saw! Bellatrix hit you with a _Stupefy_, you tumbled back and he came out and caught you. It was a boy; he looked my age, with white robes, a red cloak and some kind of ornate hood. Oh! And he had a staff! He had a staff slung on his back!"

Sirius was taking in what he was hearing and asked "What happened after I was knocked out?"

Harry replied, "I dragged your arse out of there. But the dueling started up again and I think the crazy bastard started shooting lightning or something at everyone. M'not sure. Kinda had to get you out of there first, before - "

The doors to the hallway slammed open and a very fatigued and frazzled Lucious Malfoy ran out with about a dozen equally frustrated Death Eaters behind him. Malfoy turned his gaze to Potter and thought, "What luck! The foolish boy separated himself from his saviors. If I can still get the damned prophecy maybe the Lord won't punish us for this damn fiasco." His men were still providing cover fire to keep the order at bay so he had to act with haste. Turning his wand on the kneeling child and the injured Black, Lucious barked out, "POTTER! Just surrender and give us the prophecy now!"

"Otherwise I'm afraid you'll no longer have the luxury of our hospitality." cackled Bellatrix in a sing-song voice.

Much to the Death Eater's annoyance, Potter began laughing. "It's gone."

"What do you mean it's GONE!" Malfoy blasted out, mind already wandering on the grisly punishment the Dark Lord would dispense if this was true.

"It's gone. Smashed. Demolished. Kaput. Gone." retorted Harry with mirth in his voice. "And what do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

"LIAR!" Bellatrix shrieked. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME – _Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!_"

As the realization she had truly failed sunk in, Bellatrix began to screech and flail violently, throwing a couple not well aimed _Avada Kedavra_s at Sirius and Harry as well. Naturally Sirius and Harry quickly darted behind a column and desk to avoid the incoming spell fire. "Your mongrel of a master isn't going to pleased with you, is he cousin dearest? HA!" taunted Sirius once again, as he readied his wand to finish.

"NO~ I TRIED! MASTER I TRIED! DO NOT PUNISHMENT YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT!" she uttered in a pleading scream.

"You're just wasting your breath!" yelled out Harry. "He can't hear you from here."

"Can't I Pott – " a high cold voice tried to say from the entrance of the antechamber. But before the sentence could be completed a white robed man had shot through Lucious and the remaining Death Eaters, launching them towards the entranceway with obvious magical force (_Midas Force Charge_) and forcing Voldemort to dodge.

Gerrard had leveled himself again after casting that spell to clear the hall, but was unpleasantly surprised to once again see Voldemort. Hunching over slightly and rubbing his eyes and fringe rapidly in a frustrated manner, he began to splutter out a string of expletives. "OBLIVION TAKE YOU! It's just as well isn't it? I finally get the wretched old man to stop dogging my tail only to immediately run into his Order of Misfits and your incompetents again. So why not have you appear again as well? Tell me Tom, do you enjoy dying? Wasn't feeding you to the dragons at the Edeilion's Mountain enough? Wasn't having your soul frozen into the Rime ice of the Farthest North enough for a sadistic maniac like you? I guess I'll make sure to hand deliver that mongrel scrap you call your soul to the Flesh Spires myself when I leave this damnable realm! Well? What are you waiting for? COME!"

Voldemort observed his interrupter with a dark manic glare, drinking in all the knowledge he could gleam from his appearance and entry. Much to Tom's surprise, the whelp looked at him with eyes that contained neither fear nor even defiance, but of contempt and irritation, an act that equally irked his annoyance. Tom listened with cold seething and thought, "Oblivion? The old man is most likely Dumbledore, so he's no ally of the Order. Again? A peon I've destroyed before, perhaps?"

However, it was his rant that truly began to raise his hackles. Talk of death and souls naturally drew him to thoughts of Horcruxes, but when this mere boy dared to talk his death! He had but one single defeat to that sniveling barking boy by his mutt of godfather cowering behind the desk. Voldemort began to grind his teeth in rage, but beads of sweat began to come off his bald head. "Could my Horcruxes have activated and been defeated? No. Surely he would have felt something as tumultuous as having a piece of his soul destroyed, regardless of distance. Surely he would never lose to a mere boy! Nevertheless he would have to chec - " thought Voldemort, before his thinkings were interrupted once again by the whelp's loud cry.

"I would command you to name yourself, but it matters not. You'll soon be another insect treaded upon by the DARK LORD!" haughtily yelled Voldemort, wand waving at fantastic speeds and spells following suit.

Deftly dodging the green and blue streams of light and blazing forward, Gerrard condescendingly yelled out, "Still uttering the same nonsense!" eliciting a snarl from the pale snake-faced man. Gerrard unleashed an _Immolating Blast_ followed with a summoned white tiger. The tiger stood still for less than a second before it unleashed its full ferocity and it went pouncing towards Voldemort.

Voldemort easily side stepped the fiery blast, but his eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the crashing white beast and was mauled into the air a half moment too quick, wand at the ready but spell still at the lips. Launched into the crowd of Death Eaters, who were too frightened to intrude into their master's duel, now all prepared themselves to launch a coordinated attack. A cascade of spells followed, all aimed at the sprinting youth.

Gerrard summoned a _Stone Wall_, preventing the spell fire from reaching him, but the white tiger was hit with a killing curse and evaporated back into the æther. The wall was quickly being chipped away. Voldemort was quickly recovering the slashing throw he had just received and was certainly preparing some kind of large spell. In this predicament, Gerrard would have liked nothing more than cast something extravagant, like _Fingers of the Mountain _or even _Nuclear Blast_, but with his brother and Sirius cowering in the corner little of the sort could be done without bringing them harm. Summoning two _Beholdens_ for cover fire, he fortified his acrobatics and leapt up onto the ornate railings on the wall to take whatever potshots he could before the Order came up behind him and escaping would be truly difficult. The appearance of the two fearsome five eyed beasts stunned some of the Death Eaters enough to belay their notice of his new position and thus were the first ones to succumb to rapid castings of _Chain Lightning_.

The bolts of shock came like a rain of spears and charred many of the remaining the combatants on the Dark Lord's side, magical bolts jumping from Death Eater to Death Eater like an electrical circuit. The old wizard statues and pots around them had actually cracked and fallen apart from the force of the shocks. However, they were not yet all felled and those that could released stream after stream of green lights towards the rafter-like structure Gerrard was on. The Beholdens released blasts of fire, shock, and frost from their three eyes, dividing the Death Eater's attention and keeping their aim from becoming true. Voldemort was also troubled by the wave of tetra elemental blasts coming from the beasts and waved his wand in an eloquent, yet frantic manner, transfiguring the eye-beasts into snakes and with a hiss caused them to disappear from sight.

Losing his cover, Gerrard was no longer able to hold his position against the numbers and dropped down dodging with pure agility. However, ironically the tiring Death Eaters were giving Gerrard more trouble than the ones still throwing _Avada Kedavra_, as the different variety of dark arts swirled and whiz through the air at erratic speeds, Gerrard weaving adroitly past some and dispelling some of the obviously weaker ones.

Voldemort prepared a stronger spell and shouted _"Singularis Nox"_ in a cold, yet intensely infuriated voice, as he dove forward to let his minions take the brunt of the shock and unleash his spell at the same time. A dark, slow moving sphere of pulsating darkness inched towards the youth, but experience taught him that rather than trying to dodge or block this particular spell it was better to use _Midas Tractor Beam_.

A large blue black beam shot out of Gerrard's hands and pulled Voldemort along with Crabbe and another unnamed Death Eater towards Dark Lord's own spell. Voldemort had nimbly maneuvered himself behind his minions and was about to apparate away, but not before caught in the shockwave of the dark magic's detonation, which left the two unfortunate followers a bloody black mess, and soaking in magical damage to his organs himself. Voldemort finally gave the signal to fall back, his wounds manifesting themselves on his reptilian-like face. Gerrard merely looked on derisively, not even giving Voldemort the satisfaction of thinking he felt any sense of achievement for defeating him.

In a pain slurred voice, Voldemort spat out "You way pay for this!" and left with a final hate-filled glare so venomous that had he not experienced it thrice before he might have shivered.

Pops of apparating Death Eaters, whirls of emergency portkeys, and some plain old runners was the sight the Order was treated to as they made their way into the antechamber. Gerrard leapt for the doorway hoping to escape any questions that might arise from his presence, but instead bumped into the last person he wanted to see again after Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore and was forced to retreat back.

"My apologies my boy," said Dumbledore in response to the apparent start he'd given, "but I believe that this encounter will allow us the good fortune to speak on matters that are most pressing." However, Gerrard merely furled his brow, having been exposed to Dumbledore's round about way of speech more than enough. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm –"

"Wulfric" stated Gerrard tonelessly and meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the use of his middle name. He knew that the meaning of each of his names well. He was called Percival in honor of a possible lineage but more so for the meaning of honor it held in relation to his namesake. He was named Brian for its meaning of "highborn" and thus elevating the status of the Dumbledore family name. And the name Wulfric, symbolized power, wealth and aggression. "That this youth would choose to call me by that name…" Dumbledore pondered curiously.

"Yes, that is one of the many names I've been called." said Dumbledore as he entered the antechamber.

"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!" shouted Harry across to the commanding old man as he leapt up from behind the nearly completely splintered desk.

Smiling, he responded, "Hello Harry. I'm glad to see you are unharmed. And you as well, Sirius. Remus was quite worried when you and Harry disappeared from the main chamber. Perhaps you could reassure him of your health."

"Harry?" said Gerrard inquisitively. Everyone once again turned their eyes on the mysterious wizard. "Not James? Harry?"

Harry nodded and said, "Um… Yeah. It's Harry. My name I mean."

Resisting the urge to immediately throw the hair growing jinx he perfected in his most early years, Gerrard palmed his face and chuckled a melancholic chuckle, "So they named you Hairy James Potter here, after all." Stares came from around the room as the tension began to mount alongside the steadily increasing questions each person had.

Dumbledore interjected, "All is well, but I do believe that our guest would like to move calmer areas so we may speak without the prying gazes of our new audience." Indeed the minister had arrived with Percy Weasley, various night staff from the departments, and several aurors. Seeing the many fallen Death Eaters Fudge stammered out, "Wh – wha – wha – YOU! I'll have… HOW! "

"Well you're half right Wulfric." said Gerrard preparing to cast the _Midas Astral Recall_ spell. However, this was his large mistake of the day. Because he was now in another universe, all the astral markers were reset, but worse yet was that the intent of his motion was not lost on Dumbledore, who promptly sent an elder wand powered _Petrificus Totalus_ at the same moment and catching the frustrated youth off guard. Eyes widening at his incredible carelessness, his last act was mouthing "Damn you Wulfric!" Dumbledore motioned to Tonks to take the boy and use the Order's special portkeys and exit the Ministry, as he turned to address the Minister.

"I DEMAND that you tell me what has happened DUMBLEDORE!" yelled Fudge. "And you two!" shouted Fudge to Aurors Willamson and Dawlish. "What are you waiting for! Seize him!"

However, Dumbledore merely stared intensely at the two aurors by Fudge's side, causing them to halt their half-step. "As you have seen with your own eyes, Voldemort has just attacked the Ministry and fled through the same threshold you've entered." summarized Dumbledore. "It is now time you've stopped this nonsense and listened to reason."

"Now see here, Dumbledore!" spluttered Fudge, "I'm still the minister and – "

Dumbledore moved his stare onto Fudge and he suddenly very much felt the austerity the head of the Wizengamot could level against defendants. It was if he were being scrutinized by the judge at his trial. "You will return to your office, Cornelius and await my arrival and the recount of tonight's events." Dumbledore asserted with a tone that left no room for disagreement. Turning to bedraggled scar headed boy, "Harry, you may leave with Sirius and return to Hogwarts."

"Ha – Harry Potter! Here! And BLACK! Aurors! Arrest –" Fudge tried to finish his order, but his jaw suddenly clamped shut when another glance was given by Dumbledore.

"You will order Dolores Umbridge to return to the ministry and all your men to stop searching for my groundskeeper. I will give you … half an hour of my time and you will begin to undo the mess you've created Cornelius."

Fudge stared at the ground and knew that he was done. Everything he'd done the past year was about to come crashing down on him like a ramshackle roof.

Sirius was delivered to Madam Pomfrey and much to his protest was speedily imprisoned on a hospital bed. Luna, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were also brought to the hospital wing for examination, but Harry, much more interested in the youth that had more than likely saved his and Sirius' life, spirited away under his invisibility cloak. He was under no illusion that he actually knew where Tonks had actually taken the youth, but his five year tenure at Hogwarts left him with more than an idea. He had half an hour before he had to search and ponder before Dumbledore would return and he'd demand answers about the prophecy from him.

Harry thought back to the unknown boy, who'd belittled Voldemort as if the Dark Lord were still a second year student at Hogwarts. He thought back to the boy, who single-handedly beat back the most dangerous wizard in Britain and a dozen of his cohorts. Wandering the halls Harry moved through the passage behind the painting of the noble woman in the peach ballroom dress to ascend to the fifth floor. "I'm sure of it," thought Harry deeply. "When he stared at me in the execution room, he recognized me." Thinking back to the disdainful look he had received, Harry furled his brow. "And again when Dumbledore came. He asked 'Harry? Not James?' Did he think I was my father? No. He said 'So they named him…' Maybe he knew my parents."

Harry hopped past the trick step on the stairs, grabbed the railing and turned to the seventh floor. "Just what happened in the Ministry today? A trick vision by Voldemort and fighting off swarms of Death Eaters. We should all thank our lucky stars that Voldemort brought so many green amateurs with him. They probably caused Malfoy and his lot of wankers more trouble than doing any actual damage. He remembered that downed Unspeakable explaining how only he or Voldemort could retrieve the prophecy just before the Death Eaters stormed in and chased them further down the chambers.

Thinking back to the chase, he could only shake his head at how stupid he was for falling for Voldemort's trap. It was so obvious that Sirius couldn't have been at the department of mysteries, but because he couldn't see that Ron was almost choked to death, Hermione was just a hair breath away from taking the killing curse, and poor Neville was forced to take a Crucio from that wretched slag Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry finally reached the portrait of Barnabas, and paced before it, thinking "I want to find the boy Dumbledore had brought into the castle. I want to find the boy Dumbledore had brought into the castle." He'd use the Room of Requirement to create something to find him. The tapestry slowly faded away and in its place a large wooden appeared. Harry opened it without reservation and found a large empty room with long etches of glowing runes sporadically lining the perimeter, crisscrossing in a manner that he imagined Hermione would barely understand. He stepped in and suddenly found a fountain rise up in the middle of the room. Harry thought it kind of looked like a bird bath when he moved to look closer, but saw the words "scrying pool" etched in ornate letters on the sides. Peering into the water he saw Tonks and the boy somewhere in the dungeons.

"If you don't stop struggling about like that I'm going to stun you!" shouted out Tonks irritably. Gerrard was flexing his magical might in pulses, pulling his arms free from his sides for a moment before the jinx snapped them back together again. Once again Dumbledore's might combined with the Elder Wand proved if not formidable then at least cumbersome. "I mean it!" she said, giving up trying to wrestle him onto the chair of the potion's classroom and whipping out her slender wand. Gerrard merely stopped and glared.

"And what pray tell gives you of all people, Nymphadora, to hold me in what I assume Wulfric's dungeon?" Gerrard asked in a tone of exasperation.

"Oi! It's Auror Tonks to you mister and don't you forget it or I'll hex twice as hard." Tonks replied, kneeling down and poking him on the nose to get her point across. "And this is a dungeon, but it's Hogwart's dungeon. Not a dungeon-dungeon."

"Hmph. Hogwarts. Hogwarts in its entirety is a prison. And your dear Headmaster is its warden."

"What? You a bit barmy in the head or somethin'? Asked Tonks, now poking him in the head.

"Alright, you can quit that any time now miss Tonks." Said Gerrard, struggling to shake his head away from her finger but only managing to splatter out a sneeze. "And I'm certainly not the first person that Wulfric has tried to 'enroll' into his prison. Prisoners, students, specimens; It doesn't matter to him. Here he holds everyone like a piece on a chessboard and the pieces he doesn't control are merely maneuvered and used in his little delusional game. Well… at least that's the Wulfric I remember, but I don't imagine your glorious leader is any different."

"Just how do you know Dumbledore anyway? Nobody calls him Wulfric. And how do you know _me_ for that matter! I might not remember every face in and out of Hogwarts but I know I'd remember someone who can shoot lightning from his hands!"

"I think you already have an inkling about what kind of person I'm. You did see me step out of the veil with your own eyes. AND I'M CERTAIN YOU ALREADY GUESSED! HAVEN'T YOU WULFRIC? After all, the Unspeakables did use _your_ notes to help me activate the artifact." Gerrard suddenly shouted out to the doorway.

Harry was surprised by the sudden appearance of Dumbledore and looked at his timepiece. "It's been half an hour already" thought Harry. "I guess he expected to meet up with me later in the hospital w—"

"HARRY!"

Harry jumped up with a start and turned around to find a disheveled looking Hermione and Ron with his arm in a sling entering the room.

"Hermione. How'd you know I was here?"

"We couldn't find you hospital wing when Ron came to, so we looked at the map and found you going up to the seventh floor. Naturally this would be the only room you'd been in up here. What are you doing?" explained Hermione as astutely as ever.

"If Sirius didn't tell us he brought you back himself, everyone would've been mad with worry! What's that?" shouted Ron.

"It's some kind of surveillance thing. Just look. It's that boy and Dumbledore."

Curious as they've ever been, the Golden Trio looked into the scrying pool to continue eavesdropping on the conversation.

Disillusionment charm melting away, a serenely smiling Albus Dumbledore appeared. "I'm afraid circumstances called for certain measures to ensure the safety of my would-be captors at the ministry. My humble apologies for intruding on yours and Miss Tonk's conversation."

"Spare me the trite stories, Wulfric. I've dealt with you more than enough to know there are no happy coincidences with you." 

"I do not believe I know what instances you are alluding to but this is indeed merely a 'happy coincidence.'" Said Dumbledore, still smiling and with a bit of twinkle returning to his eye. "But it seems you've no trouble seeing through my disillusion, so I imagine no harm done."

"What do you want Wulfric?" stated Gerrard firmly. "Don't bother with games. You wouldn't have brought me here if you didn't want something? You obviously have your boy-hero, so what is it!" he finished, nearly shouting.

Never one to tip his hand, Dumbledore replied, "I merely moved you from an awkward position Mister… I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage Mister –"

Still scowling, Gerrard spoke loudly, "Barrinalo. Gerrard Barrinalo."

Nodding, Dumbledore continued, "Mr. Barrinalo. I was merely moving you from an awkward position, which may have lead to an uncomfortable inquisition on your person."

Gerrard snorted in response. "Yes. And I'm certain your choosing the exact moment of my failed escape to cast your spell was merely an accident."

"Merely another coincidence, Mr. Barrinalo, merely another coincidence." replied Dumbledore almost tauntingly. "What more, it would have been most unfortunate for your unique talents to fall prey to Voldemort or by the extension of his spies in the ministry."

"And there it is. The caveat. I thought that with the Chosen One under your control you wouldn't need anymore power. After all, he is '_the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_.' What's the matter? The Supreme Mugwump's apprentice not meeting your expectations? Did he need to be rescued again?" spat out Gerrard in a biting sing-song tone. "I'm sure James is sooo~ disappointed."

Dumbledore needed to soak in and consider what was being said. This child obviously had knowledge of things an ordinary wizard should not have known. Then again, he was no mere boy was he? He wasn't able to watch the battle in its entirety, but there was far more skill in that youth than should have been possible. He knew of prophecy or at the very least, the portion which Voldemort had learned of. And naturally he knows that I desire his aid in subduing Voldemort's uprising. But he believes that Harry is his apprentice or has received training from him, a decision he never consented because of the pseudo Horcrux imbedded in Harry's cursed scar. Finally and what may be most curious he believes that James Potter is still alive, which all but confirmed his suspicion.

"James Potter has passed on." stated Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

At that Gerrard cocked an eyebrow. He felt his arms and legs free of the jinx, something that wouldn't really have contained him if he chose to be more destructive or reveal his hidden dispel potions to Tonks. Pressing on the floor with one arm and swinging the other around a suddenly surprised Tonks he began to rise and sit up. Tonks *eeped* and moved to stun him but Dumbledore lifted his hand and signaled for her to stop.

"How did the old lunkhead die?" asked Gerrard with just the barest hint of pity.

"He was murdered by Voldemort along with his the late Mrs. Potter fifteen years ago."

To Dumbledore's mild surprise Gerrard laughed, albeit a mirthless chuckle. "Tell me. Is Hairy an only child?"

"Yes. The entire Potter family has passed on except for young Harry." Dumbledore replied morosely. "Are you related in some way to the Potters?"

Gerrard stared at Dumbledore but his gaze seemed to look beyond him. "No. No I'm not." He had no doubt that the old coot had more than enough information to correctly guess who he was, but just like the last time, it would be absolutely impossible for him to guess what he became. This Dumbledore had taken the opportunity, just like the last Dumbledore, to apply passive legilimency when their gazes met, but indeed just like last time, Archmage Arkland's protections activated.

Dumbledore saw nothing, merely hearing a random song from the Historians' conduits. The Historians the Archmage discovered were beings that existed not in form but in a passive presence within random individuals scattered across existence, individuals that do nothing more than record true history of all that ever was, all that is, all that ever will be and beyond to all that ever can be. Although they do not play a role in this story, the Archmage had patched Gerrard's weakness to the school of illusion magic back in the Arcane University by testing an ingenious new form of shielding.

Instead of committing the mage's energies and mental strength to forming a shield around the mind, one would instead use the intruding magical energies to open a channel, a channel to the ever flowing conduits of true history. As the bards have discovered, each moment in time is accompanied with a kind of background song, and this shielding redirects all illusion magic to the Historians' recording of those moments.

Dumbledore was befuddled. It was a hymn (The Hymn of Fayth). As the songs themselves had absolutely nothing to do with Gerrard, aside from his emotional state of mind Dumbledore was left pondering the deep impassioned melody at a lost.

"Wha- what is this?" thought Dumbledore, entranced, a single tear leaving a trail down his cheek when suddenly Severus Snape haughtily burst into his classroom. Hands at his sides, with his gaudy black robe billowing behind him as he strode to Dumbledore's side, Snape observed the tense situation before uttering, "Dumbledore?"

Snapping out of his reverie, Dumbledore turned to give Snape a brief glace before reaffixing his stare onto Gerrard, but no longer attempting to intrude.

"You never change, Wulfric. You won't get what you want that way, so for once why don't you just drop the facades and just choose the direct approach. I'm sure there are more burning questions in your ancient wrinkly head begging for answers that you'll never weasel out with your roundabout speechcraft."

In an almost pout, Dumbledore replied, "Very well. You exited the Veil of Death, a feat never before documented in all of known wizarding history. You displayed powers far beyond what your youthful appearance relays, powers capable of fending away the greatest threat to wizarding society in the last half century, powers you've also shown willing to use to take lives." Gerrard would have argued he only slew those who sought to slay and likewise only wounded those who sought to wound, but knew better than to interrupt Wulfric in the middle of one of his great rants. "Most direly of all, you've proven to have knowledge of utmost secrets, secrets that may turn tide of this oncoming war. The question of for which party is the reason I have kept you in my humble abode on this evening."

Gerrard continued scowling at Dumbledore, knowing he meant to trap him in a game of words. If he gave him an inch he would take a mile and force him into fighting the Wizard's war. And claming neutrality would only restart the interrogations.

Sitting on her stool behind Gerrard, Tonks looked on anxiously at Dumbledore and Snape, who were both wearing a serious and stern expression. Tonks had been in enough tense situations that she knew this was quickly going to degenerate into a god awful mess soon if someone didn't do something. In a timid breath, Tonks said, "He didn't hurt anyone in the Order or Auror forces though. At least not mortally any way. I think old Mad-Eye got the worst shock when his constant vigilance kicked in, heh heh he…" but stopped as the occupants of the room leveled their eyes on her.

Dumbledore broke the silence and turned to Gerrard. "Ms. Tonk's has shown to be a good judge of character in the past. Perhaps you will put aside whatever remiss this old man has failed in and allow us to continue our discussion in more a more civilized manner? The lives of many are at stake and tonight events garner much scrutiny."

Gerrard shifted himself upright, still tired from the battle he was just put through and even more so from the drain the veil had taken on both his magic and stamina. Tonks quickly rose to help steady the wobbling chair and Gerrard returned a grateful nod to her. Finally he replied to Dumbledore in a tired tone, "Prophecies can be broken Dumbledore." Dumbledore's eyes went wide at the presumption. "I've told this to your counterpart many times before. If not they can be bent and twisted until they're harmless or they can be put into ice and stone and delayed indefinitely. You live in a magical world Dumbledore; just find the right leverage and there's little you can't do."

"Alas, if it were so simple. Tom has most likely done things to ensure his survival beyond –"

"Bah! His makeshift phylacteries, you mean." Dumbledore had already guessed that Gerrard crossed dimensions, thus may very well have had accessed to any kind of information, but the shock of hearing such secrets uttered so freely still left him a little wide-eyed. Gerrard continued, "But listen more closely to what I say. He doesn't need to die and any assurances he has to survival is pointless if his defanged … if he is contained. You yourself have spoken the words have you not? 'There are far worst fates than death.'"

Dumbledore's countenance glazed over again, contemplating the depth of Gerrard's words. "You've given me much to ponder tonight, Mr. Barrinalo. But the night is no longer young. Would you like to retire to the Hospital wing? I'm sure everyone has endured much this evening and a spell of bed rest will be welcome by all."

Gerrard leveled his gaze back onto Dumbledore and for a brief moment onto Snape. "I still don't trust you Wulfric. Your counterpart was engrossed in his own foolishness and never took much needed council from wise men, who were at the very least his peers. But for tonight, I shall accept your hospitality."

Gerrard rose towards the door and stumbled a bit before Tonks moved to catch him, receiving another grateful nod. "C'mon, I'll show you the way up outta' here." Said Tonks.

Watching them exit the dungeon, Snape turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Are absolutely certain it's wise to allow him free trespass through the castle? He _is_ capable of murder. You were witness to that much."

Tiredly Dumbledore replied, "No Severus, I cannot. But there is still too much at stake to let him wander free. In many ways, it is most likely safest to keep him here before we learn his true purpose. However, I ask you trust my judgment before attempting anything rash. We stand to gain a powerful ally or terrible enemy." Snape nodded plainly, unable to retort and knowing that too much prying into the information of either side may tip his balance as a spy. Snape would play double-agent, triple-agent, and whatever number need be. His loyalty since the day Lily died has been only to himself and his devices.

"What do you think Harry?" asked Ron. "Sounds like that bloke really did give You-Know-Who a thrashing."

"I know. I was there. But forget that for now. How are you and Hermione feeling? I know you ducked out in the corridor before we got chased downstairs."

Hermione replied, "We're fine Harry, after they lost sight of us, they were more focused on chasing you and the prophecy instead of looking for the stragglers."

"Speak for yourself." Ron interjected. "We got stuck in a room full of brain tentacle things. I still got the bruises, I do."

"Oh man up, Ron. We were more worried about you. Madam Pomfrey was having a fit when she found out you weren't there. You were hit by the CRUCIATUS CURSE Harry; you need rest, is what I want to say, but looking into that pool…"

Harry nodded. "I don't know what's going on, but that guy down there – that guy knows. From the sounds of things he knows more than Dumbledore! C'mon. Let's take the shortcut and cut them off at the Hospital Wing."

With little more to say, the trio left the room and rapidly descended down the trick slope by the Sphinx statue.

**Ch End.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sirius was till a touch groggy. Understandable he thought, considering his near death experience and rather miraculous rescue. The image of the young white robed wizard flashed in his mind. More people with worst injuries were flocking in and Madam Pomfrey, along with the more medically able members of the Order, was beginning to get testy. Sirius decided it might be in his best interests to leave now and see where Harry and his friends had run off to.

"QUIT YOUR PRODING WOMAN! YOU CAN SEE I'VE HAD WORST!" shouted an irritable Alastor Moody, shaking his wooden leg to prove a point. "I'm not going to DIE from this scratch."

"If you don't want it to get to point where it's worse than anything you've had, you'll sit still and let me finish applying the salve!" shouted an equally irate Madam Pomfrey.

Taking the opportunity the distraction had provided, he slipped out from the nurse's hawkish notice and quickly made his way to the medical storage room, looking for the secret passage into the hall. Pass the carts of medical potions, healing salves, and other various medical implements, Sirius made to tweak the nose of the hideous imp clinging sideways on a cracked pedestal. However, just before his hand touched stone, the sole empty self creaked open.

"Harry! There you are. I would have thought that you've had enough sudden lone adventures out after tonight."

Harry the decency to look shamefaced, but quickly remembered the sheer amount of intrigue that come following his ventures. "Sorry Sirius. About everything I mean, I just thought –"

"Bollocks! S'alright Harry. I wouldn't have done the same thing if I was in your shoes. I'd rather you tell me what you know than going on apologizing for things that weren't your fault."

Relieved to see Sirius jovial demeanor after today's ordeal, Harry eagerly stated "Where do I start? After Bellatrix stunned you –"

"Not my most shining moment, that." Said Sirius scratching his chin, just a bit abashed.

"We can all have a laugh about that later. Wanna get out the way, mate? There are SPIDERS back here!"

With an apologetic look Harry moved out the way and let Ron and Hermione through. "Yeah. You were about to fall into the veil, when he came through and caught you."

"The lad in the white robe? And what DO you mean came through? Came through the veil! I said it before; you don't come out of that thing! You just go in. It was an execution chamber before they started using the Dememtor's Kiss"

Hermione replied, "I couldn't believe it either. _A History_ _of Wizarding Law _says that no one has even been sent through it for the last sixty years! But… everyone saw it happen."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I was there. I saw him saunter out of the thing like he was Mundungus out of a cauldron shop. Then before the spellfire started, I dragged you out into the hall and _Enervated_ you. After that… well you saw what happened." 

"Yeah. He nearly took down the dirty bald git didn't he?" chuckled Sirius. "But forget about that for now? What were you doing just now?"

"Well Dumbledore said he'd be speaking to me later on, but I kind of wanted to find out more about that guy, since he… you know… saved us." Harry said with a bit of stutter. "He did say things that meant he must have known me in some way. So, I went up the Room of Requirement. If there was anything in the castle that could help me find someone it was going to be there. Anyway, I found a fountain of sorts that showed me where he was.

"A fountain?"

"A scrying pool." Hermione explained.

"Ahh. I guess it's not surprising Hogwarts would have one, given all its ambient magic. But did you know how to use it? I hear they're rather hard to figure out."

"Oh. Well that one just kinda showed me what I wanted to see. Dumbledore was trying to get answers out of him in Snape's dungeon, but he's coming back up here. Also, they were talking about the prophecy. Dumbledore's suppose to come and talk to me about that too."

Suddenly the door opened up and an agitated Madam Pomfrey stepped through. "What are you lot standing in here for! Come on! Back to bed! And you! Sneaking out like that without so much as letting me take a look at you. I'd thought you'd have known better from all the times you ended up in my care Mr. Potter." Before anyone could argue, she ushered them all out and into their beds and discoursed with the other temporary nurses about the patients.

Gerrard moved at an even pace through the hallway thinking about what he was doing here. He spent the last six years avoiding this miserable excuse for a school and here he was now when he was closer to his goal than he had ever been before. He had the Dragon's Eye to guide him through the Blind Eternities, he has crossed over to this ridiculous dimension so that Akatosh and the other Nine Divine's barrier no longer obstructed him, by Hermaeus' power he'd have still a decades time when he finally returned to Tamriel, and most importantly he had Titania's Fae Stone to revitalize Jolyne's Azura soul gem. When he finally he returned home, she would be alive again and not even the twice damned efforts of death itself could stop them reuniting any longer.

"You really have your head in the clouds don't you?" Tonks suddenly asked whimsically. "C'mon already." She grabbed Gerrards hand and continued to walk him to the Hospital Wing. Tonks actions might have seemed bold, but here again in the halls of Hogwarts with a wizard who looked no older than any other Hogwarts student made her forget who he was just enough for her to act herself around him.

Coming out of his reverie, Tonk's womanly touch and flowing scent only served to accentuate his memories of his fiancée. He remembered that the other world's Tonks was slightly enamored with him, but… no. He would hold steadfast to his goals and his personal promise to Jolyne. He wouldn't anchor himself another or to Wulfric's cause again. Next he heard the creak of a door and realized he had reached his destination.

Gerrard was surprise by the bustle of activity once he entered the wing. However, his entrance soon brought a whispered silence and an array of less than furtive glances.

"It's him" said a gruff voice in corner. "I know. I was next to Lupin and Mad-Eye when he brought them down. Just one touch and … *zap*!" replied a another feminine voice from behind a curtain.

Gerrard knew Dumbledore wouldn't allow him the comfort of privacy, but to send him into an open medical wing, filled with the men and women he had just earlier into the night shocked to Oblivion… If Wulfric wasn't expecting a conflict from this situation, then he had to question if this world's version of him wasn't daft. Then again, he wouldn't put pass him to use the situation to gain more precious information.

Without much more ado he entered. Madam Pomfrey made to attend to her new patient and Tonks, recognizing the tense situation began an introduction. "Um… Hello Madam Pomfrey. This is Gerrard. Gerrar Bari - Barri"

"Barrinalo" finished Gerrard.

Tonks blushed a bit for forgetting, and continued "Gerrard Barrinalo. He just finish speaking to Dumbledore and he'll be staying here for a bit."

"Come off it! That nutter nearly burned my buttocks off!" said Podmore in his gravelly voice.

"I don't know what you've done to yourself boy, but anything like that burns like that is Dark!" said Moody, as he stood and made to aim his wand.

However, before Gerrard could retort, Tonks stepped in front to block the way and said, "WAIT a second! Dumbledore already checked him over and he's alright." Tonks glanced back as if to ask, "Right?" and receive an, although irritated, affirmative nod. "He's just 'ere to rest up and then—"

"And then we can talk in the morning" Gerrard said authoritatively glaring back at the Order members.

Although not entirely appeased, most of the Order at least accepted her word and once again trusted Dumbledore's judgment. Madam Pomfrey finally descended on them and said, "Alright then, back to bed, the whole lot of you. And you can come over here" pointing to a bed in the far west corner "so I can get a good look at you."

Everyone made way and went back behind their curtains, but not without a few grumbles. "bugger …s just stupid" said one. "Served a six month stint for … umbledore … knobbers."

"Over here you" said Madam Pomfrey beginning her diagnostics, as Gerrard seated himself on the firm hospital bed.

Seeing Gerrard was prepared for the night, Tonks said her goodbyes. "Well, I guess I'll see you in the mornin' or so. I still have to stop by St. Mungos and check up on Shacklebolt, um the bald black bloke. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Your hospitality has been … appreciated Miss Tonks. Goodbye."

"Just Tonks is fine. Bye." Tonks finished smiling before exiting the wing.

Madam Pomfrey examined the results of her wand work and was left questioning what she was seeing. She thought to herself, "This doesn't make sense. All the scratches, spell burns, and fatigue is there, but the way they're aligning. It's as if he were part creature, like Hagrid or Fillius."

Gerrard remembered the bluster from the Doctors in St. Mungos when he was hospitalized all those years ago. However, this time Grandsage Allidar isn't here to make excuses for his Daedric nature. Although he's not nearly as exhausted as he was then, the journey through the veil was draining in its own way and Gerrard was left wondering if the Madam's medical aid was worth revealing his secret. Wulfric has a nasty habit of being able to extract information from even the most intricate of lies.

"Can't be helped," thought Gerrard "I'm stuck in this damn castle and the only thing I can do is minimize my presence." Noticing the puzzled look Madam Pomfrey's face, he explained, "I've been cursed and blessed with different kinds of magics from ordeals I care not to mention. Please just manage my fatigue. I've rather not risk unbalancing myself with wizarding medicine when my condition is so unfamiliar to most."

Madam Pomfrey arched an eyebrow at Gerrard's statement and asked, "Can you tell me the nature of your condition? It would help me help you if you just explained what your magic is interacting with. I know something is … warping it?"

"I'm not certain from where it came." Gerrard lied. "Only that it isn't anything fatal and I'm certain healing my basic health will be enough for any maladies that come."

The veteran nurse was skeptical, but considering the volatile circumstances and apparent lack of any genuine danger, she let it pass. She would go over it with Dumbledore at a later time.

However, behind Gerrard's curtain was another creeping presence. Harry Potter was breathing quietly and trying to peer through the tiny rip in the linens. Once Madam Pomfrey had done a secondary exam, patched up the cuts & bruises, and given Gerrard his respite potions, which were a far cry from the orange and pear mixtures he had on his person, she left for a final check on the other patients before turning in.

At that point Harry crept from behind the curtain and quietly said, "Um… hello. We met earlier in the Ministry. I was wondering if we could just chat for a bit."

Gerrard was about to disdainfully dismiss the little nuisance from crowding his meager quarters, but quickly noticed the contrast between this Harry and his brother. Most obviously was the tone of humility, something the arrogant little git he knew wouldn't be capable of, even if it meant the difference between life and getting your genitalia ripped off by rabid scamps. Now that he got a better look Gerrard noticed he looked a little different as well. He looked a little more haggard and downtrodden. And those eyes magnified behind those ridiculous glasses. Those were his mother's eyes, not the brown muddy glow he was accustomed to seeing with that face.

Deciding to at least give him the benefit of the doubt, Gerrard responded with a toneless, "Yes?"

Not for the first time today, Harry was at a lost for where to begin, having heard and done so much in such a short time. "Uh… um… Do you… Did you… uhm…" Harry could see Gerrard was beginning to lose patience, so he blurted out quickly, "Didyouknowmyparents?"

Just ever the bit slightest, Gerrard narrowed his eyes at that question. On one hand he did know of James and Lily, but he didn't exactly know this world's James and Lily. So what could he say?

Realizing how awkward he was sounding, Harry explained, "Back at the ministry, you called me James and… people often say I resemble him so I thought…"

Gerrard shook his head. "I never knew your parents. But I know of them." What he said technically wasn't a lie, since he never knew this world's Lily and James Potter.

"Oh… But what did you know? When you looked at, you recognized me. I know you did."

Gerrard was a little annoyed at Harry's presumptuous attitude, beginning to resemble Jay, but admitted to himself he wasn't wrong. "You merely reminded me of another man I knew, a man named Jay, who also resembled James Potter."

Emerging from her eavesdropping, Hermione interjected, "How do you mean? You couldn't be much older than us, so how do you know what Harry's father looks like? He was gone when Harry was only a year old! And how could there be another man that looks like Harry?"

"Hermione Granger," thought Gerrard. He only knew her a few months in his world, but it seems this Hermione was as perceptive and unforgiving as ever. Only it seems her intellect was turned against him this time. "It was merely a case of mistaken identity for man no longer lingering in this world. And the Potter family fame is rather common knowledge." Gerrard was certain he vaguely worded that in such a way that gave the girl enough to think about, but kept enough awkwardness in the phrasing to keep her from continuing this line of questioning. Questioning. This was exactly the reason why he hadn't wanted to stay in this castle for not a minute longer. No doubt, placing him next to Harry and his friends was another calculated move by Wulfric.

Ever the awkward sod, Ron was the first one to break the silence. "So… who are you then? You're not a Dark Wizard are you?" Hermione thwacked Ron on the arm, mouthing "show a little tact!" Ron replied with a loud "Oi! What was that for?"

"Ron Weasley… don't remember much about that one. One of my brother's smarmy underlings I think." Gerrard thought. To him he responded, "My name is Barrinalo. That's all you need to know that's of any pertinence."

"Wha- 'OF ANY PERTINENCE!' We know you came out of the Veil of Death and we know you bleedin' did a number on the Order! Look at how you put this lot in right state!" exclaimed Ron frustratedly pointing at some of the other patients. "Don't give me that rubbish! We're not having any of that! Now just tell us what we want to know before we—"

At that point Hermione gently pummeled Ron out of the way, ejecting him from the curtain covered bed area. "We're sorry about that. Don't mind him. He's an idiot. But he is right about a little of that. We are in the beginnings of a war and we're naturally worried about new faces you see."

Gerrard barely held back a snort at the impertinent behavior of Harry and his friend, but expected really expected nothing less. Turning to Hermione, he said calmly, "I've my goals and you have yours. Unfortunately they don't intersect, so you won't have to worry about me much longer. I'll be gone before the Sun reaches high noon tomorrow."

At that Harry burst out, "But you can't! Not after what you did to Voldemort and his Death Eaters!"

"That's right, ya stupid git!" croaked out Ron from the ground. "You're nuts if you don't think you've been marked after what you did today!"

"I can look after myself just fine, friend." Gerrard responded, hopping of the bed and rising to his full height. "Maybe, you'd best look after your own interest before worrying about mine." Gerrard turned to eye Harry. "If I've guessed what Wulfric has in mind for you, you've a lot more to worry about than I do."

After getting back up, Ron squinted his eyes at that statement and asked "What's that supposed to mean? Oi! Where do you think you're going! I was talking here!"

Gerrard had enough of this foolishness. Without a proper time dilation method, he was still ten years away from Jolyne, but Molag Ball damn him before if he was going to waste one more minute going through this imbecilic routine and with this look alike of his brother no less.

Harry was going to go after Gerrard, but that comment about Dumbledore gave him pause. He knew Gerrard wasn't leveling with him. He didn't need to spy on him to know that. But Dumbledore had promised to talk to him about the prophecy and that was what it was all about. That was more important at the moment.

Hermione noted Harry was disturbed by what Gerrard said. She patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry Harry. You look after Ron. I'll go after him." She ran towards the door after him.

Harry nodded and Ron yelled out, "Hey! What am I? Chopped liver?"

Hermione saw him walking fairly quickly through the halls towards the main stairs. "Wait a moment! Please wait!" She saw him slow a bit before turning his head in acknowledgment. "I'm really sorry about that. Ron… OH! Where are my manners! I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Hermione Granger and that was Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." She saw him nod and smiled. "They're not normally like this- well Ron's a bit brash but he means well. It's just that today has been- been hectic for lack of a better word. And then you come out of nowhere and save the day, spouting cryptic messages, breaking the norms of magic, and- and- and—"

"That's enough Hermione. It's fine." Gerrard said gently, as he helped hold up. He spoke the words as intimately as he had with the young twelve year old Hermione of his world. So eager to learn and to please was she, he had relented to teach her some skills from Cyrodiil's schools of magic, an act he had done for only one other in the whole of the wizarding world. Gerrard instinctually acted to keep her from stumbling on her own torrent of words as he had done before.

Hermione was momentarily stunned by the depth of gentleness in those two little sentences. The tone and mannerism that it contained was a complete opposite from the near-raging man she'd watch for the last couple hours. She looked up at his face not speaking, closely examining his features for the first time and recognized how similar he looked to Harry. Not so much in the actual shape or form but in the air of qualities that family members often held between one another. He had green eyes, but contrasted with Harry's burning passionate emerald green. His was like a tempered gem, no longer shining as bright, but stronger and infinitely more reflective. His hair was much the same way. It had a touch of Harry's wildness, but it was as if it was controlled and formed short layered waves crashing to a directional mess in the back. Harry's face often carried the an expression older than a child have, but Gerrard… he gave off the feeling that he not only looked older, but actually were. Holding her arm there and then he was like her father when he found her lost in the park at five years old, but even more so in a sagacious kind of way; it was like how Dumbledore made her feel when he dropped his grandfatherly image and became serious.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione regained her composure and replied, "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you. And not just for this. I mean back at the ministry too. Thanks you for saving us from Vol- Vold- Voldemort."

Gerrard shook his head in amusement and began to walk slowly. "Your gratitude is appreciated. And you needn't force yourself to say his name if you feel you shouldn't."

Hermione followed more closely and said "Harry says we shouldn't fear his name. Fearing him is the first step to defeat."

Gerrard smiled at Hermione still takes the words of those she follows at doctrine. It's not a failing she can't overcome, but it does slow down her process of reasoning. "There was once an imp who said, 'Do not speak evil or evil comes back to you.'" Gerrard noticed Hermione had that look again, the one like a child listening to the first words of a father's bedtime story. "Do you know why Voldemort's name became taboo in the first place?"

Hermione furled her brow a bit, knowing what the obvious answer was, but at the same time knowing it wouldn't be the answer he wanted. "It's suppose to be because of the atrocities he committed, making everyone fear his calling him by his name and invoking his wrath."

"'Invoking his wrath' that's where the curse lies. Evil men have risen before, but no one has ever feared a name the way Voldemort's has been. No name has ever made a population physically flinch the way his has. Do you know why?"

Hermione was going to lecture about the history of Voldemort's history of crimes, but thought better of it and simply shook her head.

"Having become incorporeal for so many years the charm has weakened but it was because of a global charm, along the lines of the fidelius charm. I've never heard the name for it, but let's simply call it the name charm. The charm covers a large radius in Britain and all who say his name sends a signal to the obsessive fool, alerting him to your location."

Hermione's eyes widened at the implication and said, "But- but Dumbledore always encouraged everyone to not fear his name and say it! He couldn't possibly have not known this! He fought for years in the first war!"

"The charm is like the fidelius. It forces the population with weaker wills to forget the reason why they can't say his name, the reason why the name magically causes them to flinch. But, yes, I imagine he must have. That was probably the reason he encouraged the people to say it. The spell doesn't identity the person speaking his name, only the location. If only Dumbledore and his Order was speaking his name it would easily leave them open to attack. However, if everyone was freely speaking it—"

"Then it would completely negate its purpose!" shouted Hermione.

"Atta girl." Gerrard said smiling.

Hermione blushed a bit. "Are you… are you going to help us fight? If you know so much then you know how much danger we're in.

Gerrard felt his gut twist a little at the begging look was getting. He truly didn't want to get bogged down by this wizarding war. He didn't want to get bogged down last time and he didn't want to get involved now. It simply wasn't his fight anymore. But here was another person already beginning to tie him down. Last time it was his sister Rose and mother, now another person he cared about, or at least her counterpart, was in danger again. How could he respond to the situation? "I don't trust your Dumbledore. He isn't the kind of man who appreciates help."

"What do you mean by that? I'm certain he asked! After what you did at the ministry there's no possible way he didn't!"

"What he want's isn't another player. What Wulfric always wants is another chess piece to use in his plans. He can't have another person moving freely on the board or else his manipulations and plans are risk. He most likely has a singular plan on how to defeat Voldemort and the input of others no longer matters to him." explained Gerrard.

Anticipating another wave of protests, Gerrard quickly cut her off with a, "But! I'll help where I can."

Although she still had much more to say Hermione was at least placated. They were in the main hall now, so she finally asked "Where are we going?"

"We? Have you decided to be my traveling companion?" Gerrard asked jovially.

"No. I mean not, no-no. Just- Are you planning on leaving?" Hermione replied.

"I doubt I can sleep in this castle, so perhaps a strolled by the forest edge is in order. You, however, are very much tired, young lady. It's high time you got some rest."

"But you can't just go off on your own! You-"

"I don't think I'm alone. Wouldn't you agree Auror?" Gerrard cried out to the stairs.

Alastor Moody dropped his disillusionment charm and stepped out from the shadows, grumbling under his breath and peg leg tapping firmly on the ground. On the other side of the stairs Sirius Black also appeared with wand in hand.

"We've some more questions for you boy." Moody said commandingly.

"You've heard what I have to say." responded Gerrard with a bit of furor. Drawing his mage's staff and planting it into the ground defiantly, Gerrard sent dark blue sparks theatrically rising around him.

"WAIT! We're not here to fight!" cried out Sirius. "We just wanted to talk. And I still haven't repaid you for saving my life in the ministry."

Sirius Black. He was supposed to be his godfather in the world before. That layabout. "And you would thank me by keeping me here at wand point for you interrogations?"

Sirius jumped at that statement and gestured for Moody to put away his wand, which Moody only did half-heartedly, still keeping it at full ready. "You heard what Hermione said. You obviously have important information on Voldemort, can't you just tell us. Nobody here is out to hurt you and I can guarantee you with my word that no one will, as long as I'm still here!"

Gerrard knew how desperate the wizards were. It wasn't because they were actually desperate in terms of man power and ability, but because of the quagmire of ignorance and self-delusion they entrenched themselves in. Perhaps he could try to enlighten them before he left. That would at least take half the nuisances away from his trail as sought out a base to construct a proper portal. "I will speak with you all tomorrow, when Dumbledore assembles the Order of the Phoenix. Until then leave me to my musings! I've as much to think about as you do." He turned his back to them and moved towards the forest.

Honoring his life debt, Sirius abided by Gerrard's wishes. Moody wanted to wrangle the boy and drag him back to the dungeon under ten different jinxes, but held back, remembering this was the boy that fought Voldemort back to a retreat. Hermione hesitated for a moment, before running after him again.

**Extra**

Meanwhile back in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had emerged finding many of patients gone and cried out in a frustrated piercing bark, "Where in the world did those idiots run off to!" However all that could be heard was, Podmore muttering. "Served a six month stint for …dat ass grabbing git. Damn bell-end. Crack a rock at your penis; let's see how well you like running after me then. You're all like 'Ohhhh my testicles.' Yes. That's why I slammed a rock in your genetalia. What are you gonna do now? Hobble after me? Yeah? Don't think so. *mumble mumble* crummy ... bas …"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I see. The staff doesn't actually channel a spell, but has the spell engraved within its magical elements. But why haven't I ever heard of the Arcane University or the Summerset Isles. If they're as prominent as you make them out to be, then certainly there would be some wizards that are recorded in British history." reasoned Hermione.

Gerrard smiled at her inquisitiveness. "Not all places are so readily accessible, even with magic. Let's leave it at that. I believe dawn is just beyond the horizon and—"

"Oh no! I have to go." gasped Hermione. "I have to return to check out with Madam Pomfrey and return to the dorms before I get into trouble!" Hermione said her goodbyes and bid Gerrard one more time to speak with Dumbledore before running off onto the main road.

Suddenly a rustling from the nearby shrubs diverted Gerrard's attention and he quickly shot a light arrow in the direction before casting a _Candlelight_ spell. A pair of centaurs came into view, as the light illuminated everything within a forty foot radius. "What do you want?"

The taller of the pair trotted into the open and shakily said, "A strange light falls on you youngling. Mars burns bright. But it no longer burns red. It burns like molten stone and gems. The stench of corruption emanates. Wha- what are you?"

Gerrard eyed the green horsemen. Gerrard had heard of centaurs from his mother's stories, where temperamental tribal half-horsemen zealously defend their wooded homes like a spriggan crossed with a goblin. However, Titania's cliques had spoken well of Earth Centaurs and of their star seers. Then again, fae measure the worth of a creature by the amount of dreamstuff they can drain from them and have spoken well of beings as heinous as shades. "A traveler," he finally replied.

The stouter of the two moved forward, stamped his feet, and drew his bow. "He should not be! All that is to be may be not all that is not may be!" he half screamed in hoarse voice.

"You speak of the cascade?" asked Gerrard cynically. "HA! You forget that the stars did not change with my birth; my birth changed with the stars! You'll do well to prepare beyond your sky watching. Prophecies are not immutable and all it takes is a single broken prophecy to taint the rest."

"BLASPHEMY! DO NOT BLASPHEME!" the taller whined loudly before knocking his bow with an arrow!

Gerrard snorted at this. I have arrived, I have breathed, I have spoken and I have touched. The stars of your stars have shone on me and all I have touched has been tainted. All I have tainted has tainted others in turn. What use will your star gazing serve you when the tales they tell are told by lights beyond them? By the torrential storms of darkness that reside in space unseen below and above them? If you were truly wise you would not seek the words of the stars but the stars themselves.

"We shall not listen to the words of an abomination! The stars guide us and forests shelter us! To forsake them is to forsake the primogenitor! KNOW YOUR PLACE MONSTER AND DIE" bellowed the centaur with shaken rage. The two began to release their arrows with abandon.

Gerrard snarled at the foolish audacity of the beastmen before him and raised his arm high willing a bubble of raw magic, a _Midas Missile Shield_, to encase him. The arrows *dinged* off the shell of the spell like rain on glass. Unwilling to entertain their zealotry any longer, Gerrard put his hands out and shouted out "_Geyser!_" and scalding blasts of steam erupted from ground below the two centaurs, sending them tumbling backwards with moderate burns.

Realizing the futility of their efforts the two rose to a hasty retreat, whinnying what sounded like curses.

Gerrard shook his head and softly said, "'Birth and death are both reversible.' You can see it with your own eyes when you look at your God. If the cycles of death and rebirth can be broken, how can one limit themselves to fate and destiny?" The first rays of sunshine gently caressed his cheek just as the effects of his light spell dimmed. "I suppose it's again time to deal with Wulfric." he thought, as he slowly made for the castle.

Albus Dumbledore hadn't slept much at all last night. Coercing Fudge into retracting all his slanderous statements over the pass year hadn't been difficult in light of the flagrant attack by Tom. However, the attack itself was where the dimensions of deep analysis were required. He plotted Tom's moves well, dangling the prophecy in front of him as he mustered Order's forces and set up alarms all around the Department of Mysteries. Alas, reality is often more convoluted than any game or story. He had greatly underestimated Severus' grudge against James Potter. The grudge was suppose to push him to use his talents to teach young Harry occlumency as quickly as possible and separate the two, but not only had he failed to teach Harry the art, but had driven Harry deeper into Tom's manipulative projections.

Then there had been the actual attack itself. Tom was supposed to be forced into going to the ministry himself and he had indeed done so, revealing his presence to the Ministry and openly marking his return in earnest. However, he could hardly believe that Harry had managed to find his way into London and with four of his friends no less. It was just a miracle that no one had perished. No, not just a miracle on Harry's part, but on the part of the mysterious boy warrior. He had changed the events of the day by merely appearing and doubly so by his actions.

**Moments Earlier**

Dumbledore was certain that Harry would have been devastated to have lost Sirius, one of the few true links he has with family. The night's events had forced him to finally reveal the prophecy to Harry.

(I could extend this section to match the book but it's so incredibly boring. He just whines and whines like a bitch. Well Sirius isn't dead so fuck it all, let's just pretend he kept it brief.) He had a rapport with Harry, who was still a looking shaken by Voldemort's ruse, something a person with his disposition naturally blamed himself for. However, Sirius was alive and no one was hurt, thus the topic quickly passed and the prophecy was discussed. He had explained how he had meant to give Harry a happier childhood and admittedly failed. He had admitted how he was aware of the persecution he suffered at the hands of his relatives but iterated the necessity of his safety. And finally he told Harry the prophecy in totality.

"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"

Dumbledore paused for moment, before simply answering, "Yes."

For an extended moment no one spoke, but then Harry thought back to what he saw in the scrying pool. "But we can defeat him without killing him can't we? Someone could… take away his wand, his magic." cried out with mounting enthusiasm. "Just because I'm the only one who can kill him doesn't mean I'm the only one who can defeat him!"

Dumbledore was trembling a little bit, thinking of the possibilities. "Did he- Did Gerrard speak with you?"

Harry nodded. "I heard him speaking of the prophecy, of how Voldemort could be 'contained.'"

Dumbledore knew that there were rituals that stripped away the layers of the magical core until the wizard was little more than a squib, but Voldemort- Tom had returned from even the wisps of death. Dumbledore was sure he had made multiple Horcruxes, but that alone was not the biggest problem. The mark on Harry, was most likely another Horcrux. Their souls will eventually intermingle as Lily's protections fade and even if every single other Horcrux is destroyed, even if Tom himself is reduced to less than a spirit, Harry will always be linked to him. "Neither can live while the other survives." But what did it mean to live? Dumbledore was almost a hundred percent certain this Barrinalo had crossed dimensions and from his words in the Ministry Voldemort must have already been defeated there.

Harry was beginning to get anxious from the silence, as the sound of the morning and students chattering on the way to an early breakfast echoed up to Dumbledore's tower. "Um…"

"Perhaps he is right Harry. Perhaps." Dumbledore uttered with meditative uncertainty. "But I will speak with him again before… Let us discuss what we shall do once more before the Hogwarts Train leaves."

Recognizing the dismissal, Harry nodded and marched towards the stairs with a heavy heart and a heavier mind.

Although Dumbledore was reluctant to hold the Order within Hogwarts when the students were still within its corridors, it was more imperative to discover as much about their mysterious guest as possible. The original enchantments on his office expanded the insides to accommodate the few dozen members and a bit of clever wand work had created a large circular table seating the dozen people.

Sirius and Moody had arrived first, informing Dumbledore of Gerrard's late night stroll and plan to speak with him in the morning. McGonagoll and Snape had entered next, followed by Podmore, Diggle, Vance, and Doge, who all slept in Hogwarts the night before. And finally Arthur and Molly had arrived through Dumbledore's personal floo.

"Well just lock him up then! Just because we can't turn him over to the Ministry doesn't mean we can't interrogate him here! You. Snape! Grab your veritaserum and I'll bound him like wild pig!" Moody angrily ranted.

"Alastor, you cannot let your own personal grudge cloud your judgment. Such recklessness will no doubt bring more trouble than solutions if the child does prove to be a potential ally." mediated Dumbledore judiciously. "It is not uncommon knowledge that I had researched the veil in my younger days and published numerous writings, which were unfortunately rather harshly dismissed."

"_The Otherly Worlds of the Ancients_?" interjected quizzically Elphias Doge. "Yes… He's not of the dead, so what else could he be. You truly believe he is of another reality then, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore nodded excitedly, or at least as excitedly as a sagacious old man like Dumbledore could. "Yes I do." He continued with solemn seriousness, "It is for this reason that he may be as much a boon as he may be a danger. He has revealed knowledge of Voldemort that only one that has been intimately involved in his affairs could know. It is crucial knowledge, which may allow us to nip this war in the bud."

"It's true!" eagerly shouted Sirius. "If you saw the way he looked at You-Know-Who… I was in the room by the hallway with Harry when he showed up. He looked… he looked at him like he was something he threw away in the bin and crawled back out. He said… something about feeding him to dragons or freezing his soul away."

All the others were listening with rapt attention now, but Dumbledore in particular. Dumbledore thought back comparing the information, "'His soul?' Could it be? The boy had said Voldemort could be 'contained.'"

Emmaline Vance flatly commented, "I wouldn't doubt it after the way he tore through those Death Eaters. The things that boy was doing and all without a wand… it makes you wonder what kind of world he must have come from."

"That wasn't the actions of anyone you could call a boy!" loudly shouted Podmore in a harsh breath of rage. "He left a massacre in his wake and was obviously no friend of ours!" Moody let out a grunt in agreement.

Doge thought back to what he observed in the battle and remarked, "But you did hex him first didn't you Podmore? No matter to what displeasure he holds for us here, he hadn't killed anyone from the Order."

"What shall we do then, Dumbledore?" Arthur Weasley asked cautiously.

"It is best we offer him our aid. I am certain that there lies mutuality in our goals. Regardless of any misgivings our counterparts may have given young Mr. Barrinalo, there is little doubt he will have the wisdom to distinguish the differences necessary for the greater good."

Deciphering Dumbledore's doublespeak, Snape irritatedly thought, "You mean guilt and coercion. And no doubt we'll be the ones shouldering the bother of catering to the brat."

At that point the medieval chime above the door rang, and the bulbous face gargoyle mounted yet higher above opened its mouth. "Visitor at the door!" it roared out in monotone.

Gerrard thanked the short nameless Ravenclaw girl, as she scampered off with a blush. "Wulfric's domain…" he thought sullenly. "Announce my presence Doorkeeper!" ordered Gerrard firmly, as the hawkish gargoyle's eyes swiveled and stared at him. Moments later it leapt aside revealing at spiraling stone staircase. The polished slate shone with an unnatural light as the magically lit torches reflective off their immaculate surface. Gerrard let the ball of his foot tap onto the first step of the stairway and couldn't help picturing a foolish boar crashing into a hunter's snare. He was prepared this time, but he'd seen enough of the obstinate old man's ingenuity to know not to be foolhardy.

Continuing his assent he arrived at the door, which creaked open before his knock. "Enter, Mr. Barrinalo." the familiar raspy elderly voice said. A singular chair had been left open for him on the opposing side of the circular table. "Wulfric." Gerrard said plainly in greeting.

Minerva McGonagall frowned a bit at that bit of oddity. "Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Barrinalo. We've shown you that much courtesy, the least you could do is show a little respect." she said in her typical professor's tone.

"Respect is earned by the mettle of the man, not by the medals on the man!" snapped Gerrard testily. "Until he has shown himself to be anything else, I'll call him by the only exact name he has. That I'm here speaking with you is already a testament to my patience and respect. And I hardly call a spiriting away a 'courtesy!'"

McGonagall looked as if she wished to rebut, but Dumbledore calmly interrupted, "Indeed. But had we not, 'spirited' you away, you would have found that the hospitality of the Ministry… shall we say less than satisfactory. The uniqueness of your arrival will have piqued the attentions of those with little care for your well-being. It is for that uniqueness that we have assembled here hoping you would enlighten us to matters of great consequence"

"I'm more than certain you've already guessed." Gerrard responded to the many curious stares. "The veil's true function tears through realities, so that one like myself may cross over to worlds. One cannot guide themselves to their ideal reality, as you may suggested Wulfric, but you were right about the other part. It takes less magic to move to realities similar to the last and thus I stand here, no doubt to again entertain your dreads and worries of that self-delusional fool, Voldemort."

Many involuntarily flinched at the mention of his name. "If you are so arrogant you believe you can scorn the man who has murdered hundreds upon hundreds of men, women, and children and commands innumerable others who has done the same, then please by all means educate us on your miraculous solution, boy!" angrily burst out Podmore.

Gerrard smirked at Dumbledore. "Are you so assured with this many people listening Wulfric? I thought keeping your pesky Dark Lord from knowing of our foreknowledge of his phylacteries was imperative to you."

Moody and Doge jumped up at a start at the notion. "A phylactery! Is that why he didn't die when Potter off'd him the first time!" Moody seriously questioned Dumbledore. "The madman has delved into necromancy! Turned himself into… into some kind of Lich?" Gerrard twitched slightly at the word Lich.

Dumbledore answered Gerrard calmly, "I have the utmost confidence in all the men and woman in this room. Please continue Mr. Barrinalo." However, as Dumbledore fiddled with a tiny ornate articulately etched cube, he privately thought, "I have full control of the memories of those in the Order, as long as they're in this room next to the Rowena's Memory Sluice."

Gerrard pondered Dumbledore's willingness to be candid, considering the possible differences this reality may have brought with it. "I believe your counterpart called it a Horcrux."

It was Sirius who jumped shouting this time, "A HORCRUX!"

Gerrard nodded. "A kind of makeshift phylactery that tears the soul apart instead of keeping the entire thing. It is that bit of magic that your prophecy refers to."

There was a bit of commotion from that information, but a magically enhanced call for quiet from Dumbledore simmered everyone down. Then Snape turned to Gerrard and accusingly asked, "And why do you know of the Dark Lord's greatest secret? Why do you know of the prophecy? Why are you here Barrinalo?"

"I've said it to your people before. My goals are my own and none of your concern. Your war has never been my concern."

Snape continued, "If that's true then why are you so intimately involved? Perhaps you were a coward. A coward that chose to flee."

"There's nothing you could fathom that could incite terror in me, peon. And I was involved for the same reason I am here now. You brought me here."

"You INSOLENT little—"

"Stop antagonizing the boy Snape!" snapped Sirius. "Mr. Barrinalo, we're—"

"Trying my patience." finished Gerrard harshly. "Just ask your questions and be done with it Wulfric."

Dumbledore looked on stoically for a moment, keeping everyone in pause. "Very well. Did you defeat Voldemort's counterpart in your world?"

"Yes."

"How?" Dumbledore asked with just a minute touch of eagerness in his tone.

"He followed me North, to the Frozen North. He knew little of the Rime Mages that resided there and sought to defeat me. There he incurred the wrath of a friend. Together we tore his flesh asunder and his wisp of a spirit once again sought to flee. But the Grandsage was familiar with spirits and other foul apparitions. He used some form of Rime Magic to strip away the ethereal matter from Voldemort's geist, leaving a tangible mess of what could barely still be called his soul. Afterwards he took him- it and cast into the ancient rime ice of the magnetic pole, where energies magical and earthly are most chaotic. And there he remains, where I assume he has lost all sense of self, becoming a raw pulsating piece of dark garbage to be eventually completely torn away by the chaos and reduced to true nothingness."

The Order listened in awe, slowly taking in the idea. Sirius asked in a slightly hushed tone, "But what of the prophecy? You know of it, so surely there must have been one in your world as well."

"As I've said to Dumbledore a prophecy is not immutable and its conditions can be interpreted in many ways."

"But you were sought out by my counterpart were you not, Mr. Barrinalo? If you do not mind me asking, who were your parents?" Dumbledore asked.

"Keen as ever you bastard" thought Gerrard. "I was raised by my master." He responded in an even tone.

"And just who was your master, boy?" Moody asked.

"Archmage Arkland of the Arcane University. He taught me my art." Gerrard answered, knowing full well no one in this realm could ever know his origins.

Dumbledore noticed the change in subject, but before he could underscore it Moody continued. "And what art is that! No school in all the nations still teaches wandless magic! And definitely nothing as dangerous as your magic! Nothing so dark!"

"Magic is magic. The schools of Conjuration, Alteration, Illusion, Mysticism and such are all different categorization of spells you've called Transifiguration, Charms, Defense, and whatever else. You should know that with magic, the impossible is rarely impossible." Gerrard explained in lecture, but purposely leaving out the more complicated issues spellcraft and Midas' auric spellmaking.

Snape was the next to speak, heatedly shouting out, "You're not telling us anything boy! All you've said clearly is that you're no ally of ours! Stop spouting nonsense and answer our questions properly!"

Gerrard scoffed. "If you know I owe no allegiance to any of your kind, then what makes you think I owe you any more information than I'm willing to give?"

Snape glared at Gerrard challenging and mentally smirked when the insolent boy reciprocated with a leer of his own. However, instead of peering through the boy's immediate memories like he expected he heard a song (The Song of Nephilim). Snape was temporarily spellbound by the enchanting, yet haunting, melody, not knowing what he was experiencing. To Snape's dismay, this particular song not only held bardic powers, but was also part of a terrifying event in of itself.

Dumbledore noticed what Snape was doing and before the scream of terror left the pale hooked-nosed man's lips, he had released a non-verbal elder wand powered _Lumos. _"Are you alright, Severus?"

He was very much shaken from the… the whatever it was that he did not see, but he gritted his teeth and muttered out, "Bloody fine, Headmaster. But perhaps now we should see to more appropriate measures?"

Gerrard grinned at Snape's distress. "You'll find that avenue of intrusion to be less than viable. Those who would intrude in the sanctum of my mind may find themselves lost in places I can't even fathom."

"What? What does he mean by that?" asked Molly as she tended to a now bent over Snape, missing the magical exchange that had just past.

"I apologize for the impoliteness Mr. Barrinalo, but I you must understand our apprehensions. You've shown yourself to a more than capable wizard, with knowledge of the Order no outsider should have as much insight into." Dumbledore mitigated in his magistrative way. "Perhaps as a sign of goodwill, you will wear the Sorting Hat."

"The Sorting Hat?" asked Gerrard inquiringly, not unaware of what it was but considering the strange incident the last time the Sorting Hat rode his head.

"Yes. It is an artifact that— "

"I know what it is. It's tried to pry beyond the conduits to my mind before and it was a failure. You'd best not try again."

Podmore haughtily interjected, "Ho. What's the matter? Afraid we'll discover your dark intentions? Hogwart's magic is more potent than you can imagine!"

Gerrard stared at the old raggedy hat. "Are you sure you want to do this? You failed last time and the keening that followed was..." Gerrard asked with concern. "I truly don't know what happened that caused you mourn so pitifully, but I advise you not to try your limits."

The hat's stitches contorted and it let out its croaking voice. "You need not worry about my wellbeing, lad. I've delved into more minds than any wizard has and traversed darker minds than you'll know."

"If you say so, Adrian." The hat jumped at statement. "It's what you cried out last time. 'My name is Adrian.'" The hat was a little shaken now. He hadn't told anyone his true name in the last half millennium and would not even under dire circumstances. It reminded him too much of what he had lost.

"If you will Mr. Barrinalo." Dumbledore asked serenely as he moved to place the hat upon Gerrard's head. Gerrard scooted back on his chair and moved carefully to let Dumbledore into arm's length and everyone watched on anxiously with abated breath.

Adrian was a wizard, who in his last moments of life relinquished what was left of his being to Salazar and Rowena, allowing the four founders to work together and create the now Sorting Hat. Adrian had scorned death and chosen to live the life of a magical artifact and over the centuries he had all but forgotten his life as a man. However one day in worlds last, he was placed upon a young twelve year old boy's head. This particular boy was Gerrard, who with his mind connected blocked by the Historian's conduits of true history. All Adrian could hear was the chanting of men and women, but unlike regular legilimencers, mind readers, and illusionist the depth of the Sorting Hat's penetration was undeniably powerful and thus he fell through.

Adrian's mind had been sucked into that moment in time, when Rudy Roughnight, Cecilia Lynee Adlehyde and Jack Van Brace climbed Malduke. He had created an alternate reality of his own. His body had returned in full youth and fighting the mechanical demons, he played the role of hero once more, but that is a story for another day. It only matters that when he perished his mind returned to the tiny brown pointed hat in Hogwarts and he screamed. He screamed, "I'M A MAN! MY NAME IS ADRIAN!"

It was rumored that since that day he has said no more than the four names of the founders. It seemed he was a hollow shell of himself. However that couldn't possibly be any further from the truth. Adrian had remembered his humanity. He had remembered his struggle against death and struggle for life. He had sat atop the shelf in that Dumbledore's office and for the first time in a millennium not dwelled on the past but planned for the future, planned for his own life. This day, this Adrian would be no different.

"JUDEAAAAAAUUU! GAAAATTTSSS! It- It's THE ECLIPSE! DAMN YOU GRIFFFFFFITH!"

Everyone looked on bewildered and confused. Dumbledore had quickly taken the hat from its hairy perch but was taken aback when the Sorting Hat opened its buttoned eyes and had literally snapped at him, trying to bite his wizened beard. "NO! I can't be back here! I have to go back! I HAVE TO SAVE THEM!" the hat sobbed miserably. "It can't be over. It can't end like this."

Snape, Podmore, and Moody shifted between fingering their wands and looking at Gerrard with deeper suspicion and the spectacle the hat was making of itself. The rest of the Order simply didn't know what to make of the stoic and sometimes comical hat sobbing like a father who'd just found his family murdered. Dumbledore looked pleadingly to Gerrard for answers.

"I don't know what you saw Adrian. I don't know what you've been through." softly spoke Gerrard to the hat. "But here you are still alive! STILL ALIVE!" Gerrard truly couldn't see what Adrian saw, what the paths the conduits lead to. It would have driven him insane if he could. Yet there in the hat's solemn raging tone was the same tone he had when he had lost Jolyne, almost lost Bartleby, and was all but mortally maimed. The same tone when he faced the last Emero-El of the Nyne. "If will only be truly over if you allow it to be, if you sit here in squalor and forget."

The Sorting Hat went silent for a moment, as it seemed to look itself over. Then it went rigid and unmoving, before Gerrard said, "I think it's best to leave him alone for the moment." Dumbledore nodded and placed the old hat back onto its shelf.

"Alas, we are once again at an impasse." Dumbledore said sullenly.

"No. We're done here. You've had your chance to ask your questions. If anything of true relevance occurs, I may seek you out again, but until then…" Gerrard made his way to the door, but with a wave of Dumbledore's wand it abruptly slammed shut.

"Regrettably you cannot leave so simply Mr. Barrinalo. Not when neither your intentions nor the matter of your knowledge has been addressed." Dumbledore said in an unabashed tone. He had not only shut the door, but also activated the more complex wards of the office, sealing room in a solid magical barrier.

The Weasley couple looked nervous and began to move towards the side of the room, while conversely Moody, Snape, and Podmore seemed eager to detain the young man. The rest of the Order looked on apprehensively, but were prepared to support Dumbledore.

"He's going to stalk me across the globe again, this buggering mad hatter." thought Gerrard extremely irritatedly. "Fine then I'll send him on the biggest wild goose chase I can think of."

"I believe that there is room for a transfer student is there not Minerva? If you would be so kind Mr. Barinnalo to—"

Gerrard turned, staring Dumbledore firmly in the eye. "I have only two things left to say to you Wulfric. 'Outer Haven' and 'Who are the Patriots?'"

"If this doesn't send you careening through a quagmire of intrigue, I don't know what will. Six months of prying and I barely scratched the top of that mess." Gerrard thought impishly. "And hopefully you'll open your eyes to the world's many threats beyond than that pissant, Voldemort. Wizards are the real mugs, not 'muggles.'"

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at Gerrard's statement. "The patriots?"

Gerrard smirked, raised his arm and cast _Midas Astral Recall_.

Everyone was shocked at the motion and multiple _Incarcerous, __Petrificus Totalus, _and a true ice based freezing hex from Dumbledore flew at Gerrard. Yet it was too late, the youth fell away into a portal and evaded capture.

"Well this is a fine cup o' tea" said Doge.

Dumbledore tiredly sighed, "I believe it is best we adjourn for the day and take care of our duties. I shall send word tonight."

**Meanwhile**

In the depths of the Ministry, the Veil of Death had for second time in two days flashed brightly. In this early a morning only a single junior member of Department of Magical Toilets and Giant Carpets was cleaning up after the Unspeakables and Aurors at cleared away everything of interest. "What the?"

Out of the swirling blue vortex came a red-haired woman with deep green eyes and an eleven year-old girl with features much the same. The little girl said, "Mommy, is this where big brother went?"

"I'm not sure sweety, but you can be sure we won't give up." she whispered quietly. Suddenly she heard the sound of a dropping mop and saw the young man who'd fallen on his back from shock. "Oh no." she thought "We've been seen."

However, from behind her came an "_Obliviate!_" An old man with exceedingly long white beard and a purple silk robe, dotted randomly with stars had just exited the veil after them. It was Dumbledore. "Lily, we mustn't idle. Our presence will surely have repercussion if we're seen."

From the veil another elderly voice barked out in hushed tones. "If you understand the need for subtlety then I thought you would have known well to cast your spells more quietly!" Dumbledore had the decency to look abashed. This old man sported a shorter but noticeably whiter beard and wore equally white robes, layered at the shoulders with fur at the cuffs and rim.

"Grandpa Allidar, let's go! We'll never find my brother if we let any more time go by!" the girl restlessly insisted.

"Don't worry Rose, darling. You're brother's a good man. I imagine the first place he'll have gone is the Frost Keep to see me' kin." the Grandsage gently reassured.

"Let us be off." Dumbledore said calmly as he hit the pattern of bricks at the side of doorway, revealing a tunnel.

**Extra Notes**

1.) It has been a long time since I played Metal Gear Solid and I've never actually played the first two games, but I really enjoyed that story. I deeply disliked how JK Rowling made normal people seem like idiots or "mugs" as she called them. It's like she completely ignored how many dark secrets top politicians like the British Prime Minister is potentially involved in, so I chose the Metal Gear series to replace all the normal people in Harry Potter.

I don't plan on involving Snake or any of the other main characters. The existence of Metal Gear is just another balancing cog to make it so that the panic and distressed way the Prime Minister behaved in the beginning of Half Blood Prince won't be repeated. Instead, they would find themselves encroached upon by forces that can be seen as just as deadly as any form of magic and investigated by the Patriots.

2.) The Sorting Hat basically got sucked into another world but is still linked to the hat. The first time went to Filgaia from "Wild Arms 1." This time he got stuck in "Midland" from Berserk. If I ever feel like it, maybe I write about it in another section.

3.) Since I don't think I'm going to have Gerrard say it out loud to anyone I'll just explain. His Daedric star sign makes him a living Prime Morpholith, which is pretty much just a unique unflared-spark (from MTG). It won't activate unless he's under heavy stress, but that's how he accessed Mehrunes Dagon's realm the first time around.


	4. Chapter 4  Everyone Plots

Chapter 4: Everyone Plots

(AN: I know what's going on, but I think it's getting kinda convoluted for everyone else. Sorry about that. I think I'll try to at least retell the very beginning of my first story again. I'll think of someway to make someone blab about it.)

* * Hidden Basement Mansion * *

"Lucious." an evil voice quietly called out. A week had passed. In an immaculate marble chamber completely contrasting with the halls outside of it, the Dark Lord recuperated slowly.

Lucious Malfoy kneeled before the bed of his snake-like master, gratefully not suffering his master's wrath. Right now, the combination of crippling pain and obsessive fury kept Voldemort solely focused on his new foe. _Singularis Nex _was one of the stronger dark spells, explosive and homing. And the Dark Lord was dragged onto his own spell, Crabbe being the only reason he wasn't vaporized. The depth of disdain Voldemort saw in the boy's eyes during their encounter was no less than what he felt for muggles. It was maddening. For such contempt to be turned on him was unacceptable! He was Lord Voldemort, the wizard who has mastered all the worthy magics of the West and struck terror in all who heard his name.

"I live to serve, my lord." Lucious groveled sycophantically. Part of Lucious was actually pleased that the Dark Lord was reduced to this state. He knew that following the revelation of the lost diary and now the lost prophecy, he and perhaps his family would have been direly punished were it not for this distraction.

"What has young Draco reported to you from Hogwarts?" the Dark Lord wheezed menacingly.

"My son has seen the boy at Hogwarts as you expected my lord. He was seen wandering the halls and grounds of the school before disappearing into Dumbledore's office."

"I see Lucious… And?" he asked with a tinge of impatience.

"I- I'm afraid he was unable to learn anymore than you already know my lord." Lucious quivered.

The bedridden wizard let out an audible growl and moved as if to raise his wand but his arm fell feebly back to his side. "You will tell Draco to continue his reports, tell your spies to discover all they can of this mongrel, and you will personally ensure they do not fail."

Lucious gulped. "Yes my lord."

"Do not disappoint me again Lucious." Voldemort said with finality.

A knock at the door could be heard and Severus Snape announced himself. "My lord, I have completed it." Carrying a platter, Snape walked to a table in the middle of the room and laid it in the center of the table setting.

"Well done Severus." Voldemort uttered. Slowly he rose. His wounds spanned across the entirety of his left side, from torso to ear, but apparently staunched. "The 'Ξεκοιλιάζω Menu' has been finished?"

Severus nodded and replied, "Lucious was quick to transport the magical chefs from Greece and combined with my potions no wounds will be left on your body, my lord." He lifted away the plate cover to reveal a menagerie of beasts twisted together into a helix and laid on the plate. What was there hardly resembled an animal any longer and was dripping with a silver-ish red blood, the culmination of the Dark Lord's study on blood magic, given to Severus to work with.

Had the Dark Lord felt it was not beneath him he might have drooled a bit of drool, so fond of the more heinous culinary innovations he had become after drinking unicorn blood. The irony of his grotesque form and meal was loss on the dark wizard.

"Now Severus, what do you have to report of Dumbledore?"

Snape reiterated what he knew of the night's events and the less than productive meeting at the Order.

Voldemort was not pleased with the lack of personal information he received on the boy but at least knew he was away from the protection of Dumbledore. "You shall leave me to my recuperation for now, but after prepare to eliminate all those who dared defy us. Do you understand Severus." Snape nodded "And you Lucious. Are the wizards we captured from Cornwall still within the dungeon?"

"Yes, my lord." Lucious affirmed.

"Then you are all dismissed."

The two Death Eaters left silently and swiftly. Voldemort contemplated to himself, "Those two insolent blood-traitors will be fine fodder when I check on my anchors. Perhaps it was mere mad rambling, but if my Horcruxes have truly activated then I must be certain. That child shall die at my hand. No mystery shall be hidden from me and when I uncover all your secrets, a cruciatus will be a blessing." The day would continue with many Death Eaters shuffling anxiously at the Dark Lord's door, hearing foul squelching sounds coupled with manic cackles and hard stomping pacing.

**In the North**

"Gone … All gone." The entire cityscape was nothing but frost. He knew he changed things in his world when he stopped Heiðarís, but only now seeing this barren frozen wasteland, where there should have a magnificent city of spiraling ice towers, fantastic metal-ice masonry, and the vibrant bustling of man and mer, did he understand.

The last prophecy of the North...

"_A world once green forever ruled by Frost,_

_Lest both Lord and Tyrant pay a cost. _

_What will stay the Beast's hand,_

_As falls the wicked Rimewind brand?_

_A spirit maiden's life viciously taken, a world shaken._

_A braided maiden's life freely given, a horde driven. _

_The thrice crowned king shall call, one will fall."_

The prophecy regarding Voldemort was certainly not the only one in the world, but just the same, he found that no prophecy had applied to him since the day he was born, since the day he was blessed by the Daedra. Such a transdimensional astral phenomenon was simply not something seers could see, hence the futures they saw were ones that didn't include him. Prophecies were written without his presence. For seers, Gerrard was like a living person suddenly jumping into their story books and interacting with all their characters, drastically changing the ending to the story.

"But perhaps they mean more than mere predictions to those involved. Perhaps this is what Dumbledore feared, a vision of ruin with no chance for reprise." thought Gerrard. "To fight against fate is the same as fighting against any other force. The Elder Scrolls themselves can be challenged. But the price of failure ... was sobering. Then again, when wasn't defeat a road to travesty?"

Grandsage Allidar was the one who devise the plan to trap Voldemort's piece of soul into the ancient rime of the Furthest North. He had planned to do the same to Heiðarís. He'd plan to defy fate. Through the cracked frozen earthen roads, where heaps of snow piled haphazardly showing signs of where buildings might have once been, Gerrard moved towards the old citadel. There was no life here.

There it was. Everything was in ruins, but whatever caused this destruction had long past. Solerebus was not a place one could find if they didn't know where to look. Gerrard paced himself languidly, remembering how each frosty structure use to look, before finally reaching solarium. He couldn't help but mourn this tragic loss and all because of that man...

In the center of the room was a jutting jagged well of ice, like frozen green-blue stalactite. Obscured by the condensation on the outtermost side of the ice was a half-naked muscular man, wearing a scowling sinister face wrought in rage and agony. Surrounding his head were red tendrils, his mistborn necromantic creatures. Gerrard had come here with hopes of finding peace before constructing the Oblivion Gate, but not this- this solitude.

Suddenly Heiðarís' eye swiveled and turned onto him. Gerrard brought his staff up startledly. But quickly understood. Allidar gave up his own life to contain Heiðarís, a fierce Rimemage with much more than a fractured piece of soul. To contain this monster and to stop his the prophecy from ever coming to fruitition, Allidar had to use his own soul as a tether. The North's prophecy had many interpretations of its own. Were Freya and Siguard well? Was the blood price paid? Will the great freezing come?

No. Gerrard summoned a long dark ebony blade, coated in lightning. Without repose he thrust the blade through the ancient frost and into the tyrant's heart. Even though his very soul was bound and frozen unmoving, Hei aris still managed to widen his eyes in shock and wonder at how and why his end had come.

"I can't stay here, not with the Fae, the Dracomancers, or the Drow either. This is a different world." With that, Gerrard solemnly left.

* * In Number 12 Grimmauld Place * *

"Ladies and Gentleman, let us begin our meeting." Dumbledore announced from the head of the round table. "Remus, what did you find?"

Seated in the leftmost side of the table, Remus Lupin rose and answered, "Neither hair nor hide I'm afraid. We tracked him as far Greenland before the spell stopped pointing us a direction to go. I'm certain we could have at least gotten a trail, but with You-Know-Who increasing the movement of his forces it did not seem prudent to commit so the manpower to a long-shot."

Dumbledore nodded and added. "It was a wise decision. While the boy is still a matter that demands attention, it is not our utmost priority."

"That may not be completely so, Headmaster." interjected Severus Snape. "After the Dark Lord's less than graceful flight from the Ministry it seems we've also been tasked with hunting down information on him. It seems his recent defeat has prompted a new obsession. One that dwarfs his fixation on Potter I might add. It's only a matter of time before he learns as much as we know."

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of nose. "Then we can assume he will have moved the objects we discussed?"

"After attending to his wounds, he had prisoners attend to some endeavor he insisted on traveling to alone, so it can be assumed he has at the very least planned to check on them." replied Snape gravely "However, it is unlikely that anyone has actually touched them in this realm. He may not yet want to undo the painstaking protections he has placed them under if he continues to believe we are unaware."

Dumbledore's worst fear had been that Voldemort would move his horcruxes and that all his research into Tom's past will be for naught. He feared young Harry would never be in a position to defeat Voldemort before irrevocable harm came. He even decided postponing his move for the Gaunt's ring in fear of provoking Voldemort into moving all his other potential horcruxes. However, the words of the mysterious youth came back to him again. Dumbledore exasperatedly said "It seems a new player has come into the midst. New plans will have to be made."

Snape nodded in agreement.

"What do we know of the boy's last words Remus?" asked Moody. "It sounded like a bunch of nonsense at the time."

"I worked with Fletcher on that question and it appears to have been a rather highly publicized incident in the muggle news."

"Muggle?" asked Sirius.

"Yes. 'Outer Heaven' was the site of a terrorist organization rising to power somewhere in South Africa according to the government releases. It has been around for the last decade until last year when it was completely destroyed. NATO forces were apparently called in a bombing raid and wiped out the entire group." explained Remus.

"What does that have to with any of us?" questioned Moody impatiently.

"Maybe nothing, but it certainly wasn't a plain event. Mundungus, what did you and your friend find out from the colonel he… 'questioned?' You never met back with me after we separated."

Startled out of his half daze, Mundungus Fletcher jumped up. "Huh- Wha- Oh… Well Micky boy got more outta' the ol' man than we thought. Funny thing, the bloke didn't even know he knew as much as did. Said the whole thing was some kinda cove' up by the Yanks or summit like that. Turns out one of their own got loose. Built some kinda muggle super weapon. Sounded right dangerous, with their nuclear mis-a-what-its. They called it… Metal Gear."

"Metal Gear?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yea'" confirmed Mundungus.

"And what of the other question. 'Who are the Patriots?'" inquired Dumbledore.

"Uhmm…" Mundungus began to look away, scratching his stubble nervously.

"Well? C'mon! Out with it, Dung." Sirius called out.

"Ye' see, Mick couldn't actually get anything about that outta the good colonel but the man knew someone who might know. He gave us a name, 'Jim Houseman.' So me and Mick take the international port to the States, see, and hunt down the bloke. Scouted out his 'ouse in the woods and everything. I bound him up with a charm and told Mick to hurry up and do his legilimency thing. But that's when the problems started. Mick couldn't get read him."

"Couldn't read? Was the man a wizard?" Snape queried.

Mundungus continued, "I don't think so. Mick didn't know what to do next, so I just outright asked him 'Who are the Patriots?' But the next thing we knew there were muggles everywhere, kicked in the doors, pointing their guns at us. I tossed off one o' them dugbog sacks and apparated out behind the smoke. But here's the strange part, them muggles got one of their own to start chasing after us."

"What do you mean? Didn't you apparate far enough?" asked Moody.

"Nay. It wasn't like tha'. Me and Mick must have apparated a good mile and a half away from the man's house, but something apparated- or whatever after us. He wasn't a wizard that was for sure. Had his face all covered in some long black mask –and no, it weren't no Death Eater's mask— he started making Mick go all funny on me." Anticipating more questions, Mundungus waved them off and continued speaking. "Mick started flailing his wand around like he'd been bit by a ghost and I knew he wasn't going to be doing either of us any good, so I threw him my portkey and sent him back around the Lancashire hideout."

"Tell us more about the man, Mundungus." requested Remus.

Mundungus didn't like being put on the spot like this, but he knew this was somewhat important. "He was an odd one, definitely. He was covered in a dark trench coat. He could float and move things, and I don't know what was going on with Mick- he's resting now- but I could tell he must'a done something to his mind. That must have been _some_ kind of mind magic, since Mick was a good occlumence too. And when he started coming after me, well I just legged it. I apparated a good four or five times through the woods before I ended up in another town, but here's where things got stranger. What are those things muggles use… the phone booth, like the one we use to get into Ministry… the one I was next to started ringing. I don't know what I was thinking but I just picked it up and a voice, a muffled said it had a message for me." Suddenly Mundungus just stopped speaking and a glazed look took over his countenance.

"What was the message Mundungus?" Dumbledore asked.

"La Li Lu Le Lo." Mundungus' hand began to shiver a little.

"Excuse me?" asked Remus, noticing the odd look in Mundungus' eyes.

"La Li Lu Le Lo. La Li Lu Le Lo. La Li Lu Le Lo. La Li L—" Mundungus fell over to his side and gargled.

Remus hastily knelt over the diminutive man and tried to steady him. "Dung! Get a hold of yourself! Dumbledore…"

Dumbledore took out his wand and started scanning the man over. "There is no trace of spellwork here…" he said. Casting a charm, Mundungus stopped trembling.

Snape stepped next to Mundungus and pulled out a potion for the little person. He poured the draft down his throat and it seemed to stabilize him for the moment.

With a sigh, Dumbledore said, "It seems there was indeed more to Mr. Barrinalo's words than anticipated. Remus, please deliver Mr. Fletcher to Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes, Dumbledore." Remus said and floated Mundungus towards the floo.

Moody rose to speak. "What do think Dumbledore? Wandless magic, strange mental magic, and all the whole cloak and dagger routine from muggles of all things… Think this is where the boy's from?"

Turning to Moody, Dumbledore responded, "Hmm… I do not believe so. Mr. Barrinalo went through lengths to express his desire for privacy. He would most likely not belong to a group, at least not actively. And most importantly, he would not give us clues he believe would lead to our discovering his own past. No… the muggles or whatever magical group that has infiltrated the muggle government is most likely something that Mr. Barrinalo believes to be of grave importance to enlist our aid or in the worst case…"

"The worst case?" pressed Moody.

"This may be nothing more than a ruse to draw our attention from his ultimate goals, a ruse that will bring more enemies into our midst."

Tonks added, "Couldn't this be related to the Death Eaters? They've taken to using the _Imperius _on muggles in power before."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Mr. Barrinalo has made his opinion of Voldemort clear. This… may be something he considers to be worst than our current crisis I imagine. We will need to monitor this new situation."

Moody let out a hum of agreement, "Constant vigilance."

A sudden knock on the door drew everyone's attention. Minerva McGonagall followed by Filius Flitwick entered the assembly room.

"Ah Minerva. It's good to see you've arrived. And Filius, I must say again, how glad I'm that you've finally decided to join us."

"Things have been looking grim, haven't they Dumbledore?" said Flitwick. "It's important we stay united before they get out of hand."

"Indeed, Filius, indeed." Dumbledore agreed, familiar twinkle displaying itself again. "And what of the matter with the Sorting Hat?"

"I've gone through all the charms I could find Dumbledore, but there's nothing wrong with the magic I could see. It's… simply clammed up." explained Flitwick. "The hat will still respond too simple questions, but from what you've told me it appears the boy made the hat respond to something in itself rather than actually tampering with it. If you remember Dumbledore, the hat is sentient… It may be best to just let it be."

"Alas, another avenue is lost." lamented Dumbledore.

"What will do about Harry, Dumbledore?" asked Tonks. "His protections are almost gone now. So… where are you goin' put him?"

Sirius piped up and answered, "What do you mean where? Of course he's going to stay here with me. I'm his godfather and it's just a matter of time before those Ministry sods finally get my name cleared. They don't have a choice after _that_ fiasco."

"Yes… Considering the recent changes, it may be prudent to keep Harry in Sirius' care. I'm certain Sirius' good judgment will keep Harry from anymore adversity." said Dumbledore with slight tone of humor, but maintaining a serious glare on Sirius to emphasize the severity of the situation.

"Uh heh… This old dog might have ruffled a few couches the wrong well, but I know well enough to keep my family safe, Dumbledore." Sirius stated firmly, but still with a knowingly embarrass rub to the back of his own head. "Well then… what are we going to do now?"

Dumbledore spoke out in his administrative tone. "I will seek out some old friends in the States to see if this Mundungus' attacker is a graver problem than it appears. Sirius, please find Remus and find Mundungus' associate to see if you can ascertain the extent of his injuries. Miss Tonks, please take over Remus' duties and continue the monitoring the trace spells on Mr. Barrinalo for any activity. Filius, if you may, work with the wards around the Moody's new safe havens. Minerva, I believe you may need to find Horace. Try to convince him of the dangers of traversing on his own. And Severus, try to refrain from informing Voldemort the specifics of our misfortunate encounters in the States until I've returned."

Everyone nodded at their various assignments and adjourned the meeting.

* * At Flourish and Blotts **

An Albus Dumbledore entered through the front door, hitting the chime.

The store clerk lifted his head away from his newspaper and said, "Professor Dumbledore! It's rare that I get to see you in here. How can I help you?"

Dumbledore walked to the front desk and answered, "Even I wish to leave the tower for some fresh air every now and then. Would you perhaps have a copy of the latest revision of Modern Magical History?"

Sure. Just next self-help aisle. But I woulda' thought you'd be the last person to need a copy of that. You're in almost half the chapters." said the clerk as she moved to hand Dumbledore the book.

"If you would humor this old man…" said Dumbledore

"Well alright then. Have a nice day." she said, as she handed Dumbledore his change.

As Dumbledore walked out the door he was greeted by an old man with an equally white and long beard, but slightly sterner countenance. "You have your book then?"

"Yes. …Are you well, Allidar?"

"It's disconcerting. Cyromancy can connect Rimemages through the storms and the clouds." Allidar stated grimly. "That I can't sense a single man… it most likely means my people are truly gone."

Dumbledore frowned sympathetically. "Are you certain? Could it not simply be the transdimensional change that has shifted your magical resonances?"

Allidar shook his head dourly. "Did you look in your book yet?"

"No I haven't."

"But you've looked through your newspapers already. They're calling that Harry Potter boy their savior, their 'Chosen One.' That most likely means that Gerrard Barrinalo Potter was never born."

Realizing the implications from previous conversations, Dumbledore was said nothing, not wanting to appear condescending to the man's loss. But after a moment he said, "Let's depart for now. Lily and Rose are still resting alone in the inn."

Both men began to slowly walk towards the end of the alley to the Leaky Cauldron. A bit testily, Allidar responded, "This most likely means we've lost our lead. We've spent too much time investigating the differences of this world. How shall we approach the search now?"

Dumbledore responded, "The investigation at the ministry seems to have shown Voldemort has only just recently returned and coincidentally take a look at this." Dumbledore handed his companion a copy of the "Daily Prophet."

"**He Who Must Not Be Named Returns! Dumbledore Potter Vindicated!" **

**by Rita Skeeter.**

(AN: I considered a different reporter, but sensationalism really sells, even in fan fiction.)

_He-who-must-not-be-named attacks the Ministry with the return of the Death Eaters! In a turnaround that has surprised us all, the escaped Death Eaters infiltrated the halls of the Ministry last week, attempting to raid the Department of Mysteries. Minister Fudge has confirmed that the former Dark Lord was indeed seen within the Ministry, but when asked the exact specifics of the attack he responded with "no comment." Likewise when asked if he will retract his previous statements against Albus Dumbledore he responded with "no comment." Luckily, this intrepid reporter was able to attain exclusive sources from the Ministry on the extensive battle that occurred within the dark depths of our political institution._

_The first to initiate battle with the Death Eaters was none other than the savior of the wizarding world, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. It isn't difficult to imagine the why our boy hero would go through such lengths and peril to regain the trust of his adoring fans. To imagine him traveling from the far flung corners of Hogwarts all the way to London to fight the Death Eaters in spite of scathing criticisms against his person is nothing less than we've come to expect from our Gryffindor hero. This reporter wonders if Mr. Potter had foreknowledge of an intrusion in the Ministry, why he hadn't simply alerted the appropriate officials within the Hogwarts administration. However, I'm sure Mr. Potter felt very brave._

_Inside the Ministry were the terrible criminals of Azkaban, feral werewolves, and even vampire, all surrounding our young hero. Alone in the dark halls of the ministry he kept the Death Eaters from advancing towards their goal until the informed authorities could arrive. From the west wing of the Ministry building, Aurors had fiercely fought through the masked invaders and staunchly defended the late night department workers. Much more surprisingly was that none other than Albus Dumbledore himself had also appeared and subdued the rampaging werewolves in the east wing. Meanwhile You-Know-Who had already started decimating innocents in the midway after Mr. Potter._

_But what was the Death Eater's ultimate goal? It appears that You-Know-Who was after a certain prophecy locked deep within the Hall of Prophecies, which was taken and smashed by Mr. Potter. A known fact is that prophecies contained in the Department of Ministries are charmed with the most advance spells the Unspeakables are capable of, leaving only those involved in the prediction to view the prophecy (reference page D6 for more details on the Hall of Prophecies). Therefore it can be assumed that this particular prophecy must have involved both The-Boy-Who-Lived and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Could young Harry Potter be the prophesized Chosen One, the one to permanently end the Dark Lord's reign? Possibly readers, but the events of the night bring more questions yet._

_The Aurors had fought their way through to the famed Veil of Death, former execution chamber of the Ministry before Azkaban was built, and found Mr. Potter overwhelmed by superior. It was an intensive battle that would have tested the limits of any wizard, but what happened next was something no one could have predicted. The Veil of Death came alive and released another young boy said to be about Mr. Potter's age. A completely unprecedented event!_

_The combatants were obviously stunned by the boy's arrival, but he quickly drew wand fire from the numerous Death Eaters. In a complete turn of events, the resident Ministry Aurors reported seeing the boy, not only deftly evade his attackers, but perform numerous feats of wandless magic and fatally dispatching his attackers with streams of lightning. Even the Aurors, who had tried to dissuade the boy from such brutal tactics had been injured and left with shocking wounds. Battling his way to the antechamber, You-Know-Who himself had appeared, but to the surprise of even this reporter, it appears the boy was heard openly taunting the Dark Lord and daring him attack him. Needless to say, the Dark Lord attacked with ruthlessness and actively threw the killing curse repeatedly. But it seems not even the Dark Lord was capable of overcoming the new boy hero's magic. Witnesses say that in the midst of the battle, the Dark Lord with a dozen of his supporters were pinned at the exit by showers of lightning bolts, summoned beast, and other unnamable dazzling spells. All of which were performed by the boy with wandless magic! After a particular explosive spell which left at least three Death Eaters vaporized and on Dark Lord injured, You-Know-Who actually retreated! _

_At this point Albus Dumbledore was reported having intercepted the boy's exit and detaining him just as the Minister himself came to witness the aftermath. It seems that Fudge could only stutter at the terrible battle, which left many dead Death Eaters across the chamber and much mourned Aurors in the departments behind the You-Know-Who's rampage. It will be of little surprise to this reporter if Minister Fudge announces his resignation this very moment. _

_It is of little question that we've seen much of Harry Potter's daring, but was he the goal of the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or our new dashing boy-hero, who actually overpowered the Dark Lord? Is Harry Potter prophesized savior or was You-Know-Who attempting to prevent this new hero's arrival? This reporter will be keeping you informed._

_One final tidbit to titillate your reason, former convict, Sirius Black, was also found in the battle, fighting AGAINST the Death Eaters. Further investigations have shown that Black did not receive a trial for his previous crimes. In addition eye witness accounts from the battle show the Death Eaters themselves have denied his participation in the evil organization even from the earliest moments of the war. What will this mean for the wizarding world? It may be many things, but one thing is certain. This will definitely be the final nail in the tenor of one Cornelius Fudge. _

Allidar read through the paper, but focused on the one important line, "_Albus Dumbledore was reported having intercepted the boy's exit and detaining him…_" This may not bode well. In austere hushed tones, Allidar bristled, "You have him! Oh the irony of it all."

"A tragic irony, I'm sure. However, while I doubt Gerrard will allow himself to be held by myself for long, this may be the lead we need." Dumbledore said solemnly. "This old man still has amends to make."

Allidar looked at Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "There have been far worst men than you Albus… Don't let the mistakes you've made in the past control your future."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit and waved Allidar towards the door of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the barman nodded to the pair of old men, as they began to head upstairs, but then a voice called out.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

It was Harry Potter and the Weasley family having lunch in the corner booth. Dumbledore had yet to meet anyone that intimately knew him. Although he had no fears of failing to play his part, he was worried that in the advent of Voldemort's return his double will investigate any discrepancies his words or even mere presence may have in the Order member's reports. "Hello." said Dumbledore, not wanting to greet the look-alike of James Jr. by name. "Arthur, Molly. Have you finished your shopping?"

The sage, recognizing the situation, went upstairs with no introduction to reconvene with Lily.

Molly scooted over to the side to offer an open seat before replying, "Yes. We're just having lunch to finish the day before returning home. Has the meeting already finished?"

Without missing a beat, Dumbledore replied, "The meeting has ended. I'm afraid I cannot stay for long; there are still certain individuals I need to meet before the day is over. We'll speak again later when circumstances allow more time." Dumbledore needed to cut this short before he said or heard something that would make them mention this meeting to his counterpart.

Arthur spoke up, "That's a shame professor. We were hoping to speak more about the recent events before we—"

"It will have to wait Arthur. Time is rather pressed. Farewell for now, Molly, Arthur." Turning to Harry and Ron Dumbledore said, "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter." and quickly paced up the stairs. Turning down the hall he entered the corner room.

"Professor, how are things?" asked Lily Potter, sitting on the bed with daughter sleeping in her lap.

"Albus is fine Lily. I've lost the right to be called professor after—"

"Don't be silly professor Dumbledore." replied Lily.

"Just let it be, Albus. Mistakes only stay mistakes until you've made amends." Allidar said. "Lily. Did you see the young man downstairs?"

Lily frowned slightly. "How could I miss it? He was the spitting image of James and Jay. Except those eyes, they looked a little kinder and wiser."

Allidar smiled slightly and said, "They look like your eyes. But you're not wrong."

Lily blushed. "Well he didn't notice anything about the two of us under our glamours. It's a sad irony that I would run into this son when looking for the other."

Dumbledore sat down on the second bed. "It does seem that history is repeating itself. It seems that Gerrard was captured by myself during his entrance to this world."

Lily gasped, "You never manage to restrain my son once in the last four years and the instant he appears here this other Dumbledore captures him!"

Dumbledore shook his head and said, "It's was most likely just an unfortunate set of happenstance." Dumbledore handed Lily the history book he had just purchased. "The history of this world is very similar except you only bore one child instead of twins and… that inauspicious night during Voldemort's attack James and yourself passed away. I doubt Gerrard will be restrained for long."

"Your Merlin himself would have trouble restraining that boy unprepared." Allidar joked.

Lily chuckled a bit, "He is something isn't he… I just wish I could take more credit for it."

Allidar said in a firm grandfatherly tone, "Don't blame yourself for your husband's sins. You know your son does care for you."

Lily replied, "I… I suppose."

Dumbledore spoke up, "We'll find him, Lily. I will need to gain access to the Order's network. Once within there I will either find Gerrard or utilize the tracking spells my counterpart will have most likely put on him."

"Why are you so good with those things?" Lily asked.

Dumbledore replied, "When you're in charge of keeping track of hundreds of magical children over half a century, you find it becomes necessary to… innovate." a touch of pride in is tone.

"Let's rest for the night. I may try to return to my home continent. If Gerrard has been delayed for any period of time, perhaps he will still be in Solerebus. If not, then at least there might be some clues to where he has gone.

"What do you mean, Grandsage? I thought you said he would stay with Rime Mages if he reached the Frozen North." asked Lily.

Allidar's face went grim. "Do you remember the story I told you? How my people were at war with would-be-despot before your son stopped him? Your son wasn't born in this world. I believe that my people were unable to survive the Tyrant's rebellion."

Lily snapped up in realization. "Oh! I'm… I'm sorry."

Allidar clutched his brow. "I suppose they aren't really the same men and women I lead. I know that my comrades- my family are still well in our native realm, but all the same… I believe I shall see what has become of my home."

"Let us retire to the next room then, friend. Tomorrow we shall see what comes." urged Dumbledore.

* * Back Downstairs in the Leaky Cauldron * *

"Hey Harry. That was kind of strange. What do think Dumbledore's up to now?" asked Ron Weasley.

"Not really sure, but it was kind of strange how he called me Mr. Potter. He hasn't done that since the beginning of last year… when he was trying to hide what he was doing from Voldemort." replied Harry.

Ron still jumped a bit at the name. "Harry! Stop pissin' around with that. Hermione already told you 'bout why we don't say You-Know-Who and after what happen just a month ago…"

Harry was about to retort, but stopped after remembering the chaos he had caused and the mental connections Voldemort had to things. "Sorry. It's… a habit. But anyway… did you notice the old man Dumbledore came in with?"

"S'alright Harry. And not really. I didn't even notice Dumbledore until you shouted out his name. I was finishing my chips."

"Ron… Oh whatever. I think something's going on again. Something big."

Ron just stared blankly at Harry. "Harry, of course something big's goin' on. Did you forget that the Death Eaters are openly attacking people now? Or that bloke that had everyone in a tizzy a week ago?"

Harry blustered a bit. "I know! It's just one of those feelings again you know. I think Dumbledore's got some kind of secret plan on right now. C'mon, let's sneak up and see—"

"C'MON BOYS WE'RE LEAVING!" shouted out Mrs. Weasley. "THIS IS NO TIME TO DAWDLE!"

"What can I say mate? Let's go. Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll find out more about it back in Sirius' place." Ron and Harry went towards the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. "Think Quidditch will be any good this year? You might make captain."

* * Extra * *

The hum of electrical equipment perpetually echoed in the room. Elaborate Patriotic banners hung on the back wall, complimenting the blue carpet and antique light fixtures. Sitting behind a Washington classic wood desk, a man looked up from his pile of recondite documents. "What did you find Mantis?" asked the rugged faced man.

"Do you believe in magic, George?" a muffled voice said.

"I thought you more self respect than to call your abilities that." George replied with a snort. "I know full well about your psychokinetic abilities Mantis, now tell me what you found."

"Ah, but there it is. It wasn't telepathy the rat's friend using, but genuine magic."

George cocked an eyebrow "How do you mean?"

"Is it so strange after seeing what I can do? After having seen what the unit's agent can do? Yes magic. The spy had some kind of rudimentary mental shielding but apparently he wasn't use to my way of reading. I could see he belonged to an entire society of - ha Ha HA – WIZARDS!"

"Don't waste my time with your insane jokes Mantis-"

"It's no joke. It seems magic has been a part of our world for centuries if not millennia, and that little fool seemed to think The Patriots were some part of it. These 'wizards' seem to be starting some kind of little war in their world and he was under orders from someone to discover some connection between it and our… esteemed rulers." Mantis spat out sarcastically. "Unfortunately for him General Houseman has received the cranial implants blocking mental intrusion."

George Sears furled his brow in contemplation of this revelation. Mantis was right; he'd seen more madness around the world to believe that magic might be possible. "Leave now. I'm going to send someone to investigate… unless you would like to enlist full time in Foxhound? I would have thought you tired of interrogating serial killers for the FBI by now."

"A recruitment offer from you, Mr. Vice President? I thought you only favored small boys." Mantis taunted.

The Vice President gave Mantis a deadly glare. Mantis didn't need telepathy to know he was treading on dangerous territory. "I will consider the offer." he rasped before disappearing from his office.

George hit a code on a hidden keypad and spoke into a microphone. "Send Liquid. I have a mission for him. I'm sure he'll be most comfortable in his homeland"

George thought to himself, "Magic… perhaps this is something even The Patriots couldn't account for. Perhaps he had more time than anticipated." George ran his hand through his hair and watched the numerous white hairs the fall out along the steadily fewer black.

End.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

(AN: Apologies. I want to move forward in the story but the plot just drudges on like a netful of stones through muck, each stone demanding just as much attention as the last. But it'll all be worth it when the trap is all set and each in their proper position.)

* * Hogwarts: Medical Wing * *

"I've never seen anything like this!" Madam Pomfrey shrieked as she hovered over Mundungus' body. "If it weren't for Severus' rejuvenation potion he wouldn't be alive now! Just what caused this!"

Remus explained, "We don't know. He was investigating a lead in the states. But… there might be possibility that…"

"That what?" Madam Pomfrey shouted.

"That this might have been some kind of muggle attack. Mundungus was investigating a muggle general when he was attacked." Remus finally said.

"Muggle! How- Well I suppose… Oh blighter!" Madam Pomfrey went over to Mundungus again casting more diagnostic spells. "Ah! How could I have missed this?" Madam Pomfrey gently and carefully extracted a tiny metal nub behind Mundungus' ear and levitated into a nearby container. "It looks like… I don't know what it is. Some kind of poison vector?"

Remus interjected, "It couldn't be so simple, and whatever it is attacked his mind as well. When he was giving his report he mentioned his attacker had launched some kind of mental assault on his partner and during his report he had a mental lapse before we stabilized."

Madam Pomfrey was intently examining the results for Mundungus' blood. "There's something here. Look Remus." Madam Pomfrey showed Remus a medical reading from her wand. "See the parts moving here?"

"What are they? Is it… a virus?" Remus asked.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "No. At least not a normal one. Whatever these blotches are, they're benign. At least they appear to be. However, it seems to have released these virus-like infections over here, near his heart. Whatever they are, they attaching to the walls of the heart muscle and trying to… kill it."

"Can you stop it!" Remus sputtered.

Moving at speeds surprising for a woman her age, Madam Pomfrey summoned multiple potions and administered them on Mundungus. She cast a few more spells and let out a sigh of relief. "Mr. Fletcher isn't at risk, for the moment. The saving grace is that these virus-like things are not as effective as they could be. Bolstered by these potions, his own immune system is still enough to attack the viruses and slowly clear them out. You see?" Madam Pomfrey showed Remus where the attacking viruses were sloughing off. It appears that Mr. Fletcher has survived the worst of it. What I'm worried about are the vectors. I still have no idea what these things are doing to Mr. Fletcher. And considering you mentioned a mental attack…"

Remus exhaled noisily. "This is quite a mess. Can you do anything for him? It would be ideal if we could ask him more about his attack."

"… I am still not sure of the extent of the damage, but it's still not possible to completely flush them out, even with a consistent application of blood replenishing potions." Madam Pomfrey lamented.

Suddenly the medical wing doors were kicked open. Sirius Black entered with a shaky unkempt mustached man slung over his shoulders. "Remus, I found Mick. He still a little under the weather but he's holding it up, it looks like."

Madam Pomfrey lead the man to a bed and began diagnostics again. "Do you know what happened to him, Sirius?"

"We were attacked, *gasp* by soldiers." Mick seethed. "Not surprising since Dung had me interrogating a general."

"Did the soldiers shoot you with anything?" asked Remus.

Mick shook his head, "They never got a shot off before Dung threw his smoke bombs. No. What was crazy was the man in the gas mask."

"Gas mask?" asked Sirius

"Muggle thing. I'll explain it to you later Sirius." said Remus.

"How's Dung?" asked Mick.

"He's alright for the moment, Mick." answered Remus. "The question is will he be the same when he wakes up. That man with the mask, he used a legilimency attack didn't he?"

Mick responded, "Yeh. Not any kind I ever saw before. It bore straight threw my occlumency." Mick frowned at the memory and clenched his teeth. "I don't know if they were wizards or muggles or what, but they know about… Me an' Dung don't know that much about what's going on with your whole operation, so I don't think he got much about the Order, but still… you might want to prepare for any spooks crawling around your parts."

Sirius frowned at that. "Do you think they had anything to do with the Death Eaters at all? Anything at all?"

Mick looked up to Sirius for a moment and said, "No. Bloody hell, though mate, those muggles were fuckin' nutters. Whatever we were looking for must have been important that's for damn sure, but probably nothing to do with the Death Eaters. Those were top secret muggle projects, the kind they kill men fer, but that's never been the Death Eater way, 'as it? Wizards superior to everything muggle and all that. They wouldn't even look at the nuclear thingies, much less use 'em."

Sirius yelled, "Just great! So it was a wild goose chase after all!" before Madam Pomfrey shushed him.

Mick said, "I really don't know what to tell you. Do you think Dumbledore's going to want the memory of it, of… Metal Gear?"

Remus answered, "That might be a good idea, but none of us can extract memories. We'll have to wait for either Snape or Dumbledore himself to return. Did the American Wizard's Council get involved with your investigation?"

Mick's shoulders sagged. "Rubbish, this whole thing was. I don't even know how those Yanks knew we were there. Me and Dung cased the house for two days, two whole days and the way the tosser was leaving his door open, it was like he was asking for someone to rob him. Then when we finally caught up with him, I couldn't bloody read him! We get surrounded by bloody muggles, pointing their damn bang-sticks at us. And as if that wasn't bad enough we get a god damn bell-end turning the tables on us and- *cough-cough*"

Madam Pomfrey saw her patient was beginning to get worked up. "That's enough, Mr…"

"Just Mick. No last names 'ere."

"Alright then, Mr. Mick. Aside from the bruises and typical signs of mind trauma you're alright, but please lay on the bed and get some rest." Madam Pomfrey ordered.

Remus asked, "Is there anymore you can tell us? Before Mundungus collapsed he said a phrase, 'La Li Lu Le Lo.'"

Mick gave the bedridden Mundungus a stare before cocking an eyebrow at Remus. "How startling, Dung spouting jibberish. The world must be endin'."

Sirius irritatingly shouted, "Be serious about this!"

Mick turned to the irate wizard and shouted "You're serious enough for both of us!"

Sirius let a single laugh, but steadied himself. "Damn it man! People's lives are at stake here!"

Mick put his hands up defensively. "Okay okay okay. Let's see. From what I could gleam, this Metal Gear is like I said, some kind of nuclear weapon, which as you know are the muggle's super weapon. But the thing about this Metal Gear accordin' to the colonel was that it has ability to move and walk like a car or something. Don't ask me why that's important, I never took muggle studies seriously. Now as far as I can tell the soldiers in Outer Heaven weren't terrorists like the news reports say; they were just mercenaries. It was a nation of mercs with no allegiance to any of the big countries. Give them that and a super weapon? Well I guess the higher ups in the muggle government didn't take kindly to that and blew them all to smithereens. If I had to guess I'd say the boss that gave those orders was these Patriots we were lookin' for."

Sirius thought hard. "Remus, do you really think this has anything to do with us at all? Is it like Dumbledore said?"

"I don't know, but we'll just have to find out. Let's depend on Dumbledore's findings." said Remus.

"We could do that or~" Sirius mischievously drawled out, "we could go out and drum up some information for ourselves."

Remus recognized that look. It was the same look, not Sirius, but Padfoot gave him. "We're not in Hogwarts anymore Paddy. Heading out randomly into the dark with our thumbs up our rears isn't going to cut it anymore."

"So we'll randomly go into the dark with our pinkies. Come on Moony! You know you want to!" grinned Sirius. "They've already written up my pardon and as long as I don't kick up a fuss in the wizarding world the Ministry won't bother me. So~ what better investigation than one in the muggle world?"

"Are you sure you should be doing this? After what happened with Harry and the Ministry? I thought you'd want to be a better role model than that Sirius." chided Remus.

"Oh don't put that in my face. It's not like I'm suggesting we head into a Death Eater base!" retorted Sirius. "We're just going to take old Mick here and figure out who attacked him."

"Oy! Don't bring me into this! I've already done my job and Dung hasn't even paid me my usual fee yet!" shouted out Mick. "You couldn't pay me enough to go through that again."

"Oh?" huffed Sirius impishly. "I just happen to be the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, the sole remaining Black with access to the extensively large vaults of the Black family. Care to make that a bet?"

Mick gave Sirius a stern look, which quickly collapsed into a relenting frown. "Fine! But I want QUADRUPLE my fee! And full reimbursement for everything I've done right here, right now!"

"Ha! That's the way! What do you say Moony? Ready for another Marauder's Adventure?" asked Sirius, wagging his eyebrows and looking younger than he had been for sixteen years.

This was a familiar sensation Remus hadn't felt in ages. One he wasn't sure he whether he was happy or annoyed to be feeling again. It was the feeling of being dragged into one of Sirius' schemes. "ALRIGHT! Someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble and only Merlin knows why I've been chosen for that unfortunate role."

"Great! Then let's get out of here now! Before the harpy of the foul potions returns and puts all of us underneath bedcovers for some reason or the other!"

"God help whoever marries you Sirius." joke Remus with a laugh.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all." thought Mick. "I might have just signed my own death warrant."

* * New Salem Academy * *

Albus Dumbledore stepped into the office of an elderly witch, though vitality belying her true age to most, dressed in neat red silk robes. The sound of school children playing could still be heard outside in the courtyard. Practicing Quidditch and Quod-Pot quite robustly, they might have been teams returning to play or perhaps local children just enjoying the free sunny Summer fields.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, to what do I owe this honor?" A hawkeyed elderly witch sat behind an ebony desk. The sunlight shining in through the large gothic windows reflected beautifully on the surface. If one were to stand before her, it would not be strange for them to imagine they were staring at an aged Goddess Athena. "I'm surprised to see you here, while Britain is in chaos"

"Headmistress Eleniak, it's a pleasure to see you again. We haven't been in correspondence nearly enough, dear Anastasia."

"Spare me your charm Albus, you wouldn't be here unless you direly needed something." she firmly spoke. "What problems have you brought with you now?"

"It seems the age of grace and courtesy has passed even in the elder generation." grieved Dumbledore, as he adjusted his spectacles. "I have come on behalf of an associate, who suffered certain grievances during his stay in the Americas."

"Grievances you say? I thought the State Wizards Council would have been a better candidate to receive your complaints. What services do you believe the humble Headmistress of a school can render?"

"We both know the generous depths of your talents, Anastasia. What more, the unique circumstances surrounding this incident requires a certain degree… of subtlety." responded Dumbledore in typical shrewdness. "There was a mishap regarding the muggle military."

"The military?" Eleniak inquired. "What in blazes were you doing with them?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Tracking down a lead, my friend was attempting to gather information from a US general named Jim Houseman. However, over the course of their interaction, they were assaulted by a most unusual legilimence, one that did not use a wand and wore a gasmask. Is this anyone you're familiar with?"

Headmistress Eleniak frowned at Dumbledore. "When you say 'gather information' I assume you mean spying. Unfortunately I've never heard of a wizard that fits your description. However, I do know you're meddling things you should best leave alone, Albus. I don't know what you believe you're looking for, but the US government and its projects won't have anything to do with Dark Lords and blood purity nonsense. I'll thank you not to have your men come through here like a niffler in a jewelry store! …lest you're prepared for the consequences."

Dumbledore maintained a neutral expression. "Anastasia, my associates and I are endeavoring seriously to maintain the peace of the wizarding world. I would not instruct my acquaintances to purposely stir up trouble in your country. And certainly would not if I did not believe it served a legitimate purpose for the greater good."

Eleniak pertly replied, "You're greater good again, Albus? In spite of your achievements, you've never had a good sense of focus. Coupled with your thorough lack of knowing when to mind your own business… Now just what are you trying to accomplish?"

Dumbledore answered. "A rather strange incident has occurred in our Ministry over the last month."

"You mean the mysterious boy hero your newspapers have been raving about? It's seems like more of the insanity I've reading over the last year. Unless the writer was correct about your mental state." Eleniak scoffed.

Dumbledore shook his head disappointedly at the memory. "A sad state, brought about by a combination of paranoia and bad politics. However, the article was not incorrect. It was that very boy's words that have lead us to seek out information, here in America. And alas the same Dark Lord we're combating has taking a stark interest in the same boy. Hence, it will not be long before he seeks out the same information, bringing chaos and death in the wake of his search."

Headmistress Eleniak glared before letting out an exasperated breath between her teeth. "What is it you want from me Dumbledore? Who was the general you were investigating? Stop beating around the bush."

Dumbledore began to explain. "The boy's name is Gerrard Barrinalo, the first transdimensional traveler."

Eleniak asked curiously, "Transdimensional?"

"Indeed. As I believed in my youth, the Veil of Death was indeed one of the fabled doorways between realities and realms the ancient wizards of tribal England. Mr. Barrinalo confirmed his extradimensional origins himself."

The Headmistress was still suspicious of the affair. "And what proof did he offer you, beyond the obvious?"

"That is where the origin of our trouble lies. Mr. Barrinalo displayed intimate knowledge of both the workings of my organization and of the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Knowledge that I can personally attest to be limited to only myself and few others."

"Your secrets again? That's what this is about!" shouted Eleniak.

Dumbledore wore a stony face, not wanting to return to past arguments. "It is necessary to maintain discretion and secrecy when events of great magnitude are inexorably connected, Headmistress. And… if it were only so simple, perhaps it would not be so dire. If Voldemort catches young Gerrard not only may he be able to undermine all our efforts to thwart his return, but what Gerrard has not told us may lead the Dark Lord to even more deadly heights."

Eleniak listened intently but showed signs of impatience. "You've still yet to explain why you were investigating the American military."

"Quite right, quite right. Allow me to continue. When I detained young Gerrard after the battle in the Ministry, he was reluctant to reveal much about himself. Rather he staunchly refused to let anyone know anything regarding his personal goals at all, except for two phrases, 'Outer Heaven' and 'Who are the Patriots.'"

"Did you say 'Outer Heaven'?" asked Eleniak.

"Yes. Perhaps you… know of it?"

"I believe I do." Eleniak had a nostalgic and mournful look on her face. "It's not a small terrorist organization as some would have you believe; it was an entire nation soldiers, fighting for a cause." Eleniak elucidated. "Is this why you've been investigating? You actually believe that this has anything to do with you? Or him for that matter?

"No." Dumbledore responded plainly. "However, it will be integral to at least investigate. Wherever this leads, Voldemort will eventually follow. We have to prepare for battle, Anastasia, and to prepare we must have superior intelligence."

"If you intend to turn this into some kind of- of chess game, Albus, then do not continue down this path any further! I make it a policy to know about potentially world changing events, regardless of whether they're muggle or wizard. And believe you me, nothing good will come from provoking these people." Eleniak warned harshly.

Dumbledore noticed that the Headmistress was becoming more heated than her normal self. "What do you mean? Please, Anastasia, explain what worries you so."

Eleniak had a guarded look on her face. "You are an old world wizard, Albus. You haven't seen how the world has changed. Muggles have advanced far faster than anyone could have ever predicted."

Dumbledore responded, "Yes. It is indeed amazing what the muggles have done. I have always admired their ingenuity and clever inventions. It is quite a pity we do not have the time give them the appreciation they deserve." Dumbledore would have continued but noticed the elderly woman's pitying smile.

"Your praise belies your naivety." Eleniak took a pause. "Muggles have been driven to invent by necessity. And there is no greater time of necessity than in war. If you've already had men investigate Outer Heaven, then you must know. You must know of nuclear weapons. No Dark Lord in the history of the wizarding world has ever even come close to having enough power to threaten every single human being, no, all life on Earth at the same time. But the muggles have done it." proclaimed Eleniak.

"Surely you're exaggerating, my dear Anastasia. During the height of Grindelweld's power, the bombs over London barely scratched the wards over the Ministry and Diagon Alley."

The elderly woman responded in hushed tones. "No. You're still picturing how things have been in the past, but now… Let me tell you a story, Albus.

I had a student in this school named Anthony Del Rio, a little ball of energy, really the sweetest boy you could ever hope teach. He was the kind of student that would hang on your every word and dog your tail once class was over. However, he had a cousin from his native home of Nicaragua, entrenched in an ongoing conflict. His entire people, his family, had been driven out of their homeland into Costa Rica by the US installed Somoza regime. The way he would fret over little Chico and his sister, the way he pinned his hopes on magic somehow… magically helping restore peace and order to his homeland was heartbreaking. You as the Supreme Mugwump, know better than anyone else the laws regarding wizards interfering in muggle politics.

It was always his dream, such a simple dream. To be able to live in his homeland with his family in peace, something so many people take for granted. You have no idea, Albus, how- how difficult it was to explain to a little boy why was it that we could transfigure towns, charm entire villages, and manipulate the minds of every man on the Earth, but we still could not- would not bring simple justice to his people! What good was magic if one couldn't use it to restore the basic human rights, to restore _justice_, to one's family!"

Dumbledore didn't know what to say. "Anastasia…"

"But Anthony was an optimist. For years little Anthony went back and forth from person to person looking for any legal way for the American Wizard's Council to help halt the US' containment policies or at least stop them from allowing madmen to run the countries of his native continent. Let me tell you, Dumbledore, these men were cruel and callous far beyond the Death Eaters.

But one day, he finally found an opportunity. It was after he had graduated in 1974, when he received a letter from his cousin. A letter that claimed an eighty-three foot Basilisk had been discovered in the mountains of Nicaragua."

"A Basilisk!" asked Dumbledore, startled from his own experience with the creatures.

"There was no Basilisk, Albus. And Anthony knew that, but it was a pretext he could use to rally the most talented Aurors America had, to deliver the justice he sought so desperately. Spearheading a squad of Aurors, he went mislead his team into an attack on the Nicaraguan National Guard. However, he found something much worst…" Eleniak trailed off.

"…what was it. What did he find?" Dumbledore asked pensively.

"The Peace Sentinels. A rogue unit from the American Central Intelligence Unit that was torturing and murdering his people, all in the name of creating America's perfect nuclear detterent. The Basilisk Chico found, a nuclear armed walking battle tank. Sound familiar?"

"Metal Gear…" Dumbledore responded.

Eleniak nodded. "So you know… Anthony understood that thing was the source of his people's woes, the oppressor, the tool and the symbol of the America's persecution of his people. He led the Aurors into direct battle against the unit. What do you think happened, Albus?"

Dumbledore looked at the grimacing sadness on Anastasia's face. "He failed."

"Yes. He… failed. More than half of the thirty men he took lost their lives. From the memory I saw of Anthony's battle, it was an eighty foot tall walking metal monstrosity. They showered the beast with the typical arsenal of spells, transfigured golems, and some even resorted to dark magic. Nothing so much as scratched the monster. In the end they were only able to portkey and apparate away, to run and hide like we've done for the last three centuries. Anthony stayed and continued to monitor the situation, helping his people from behind the scenes. I'm still not certain what happened that day all those years ago but Anthony discovered that thing had a nuclear bomb on its back with 100 megatons of power. Do you know what that meant, Albus? That single bomb could have destroyed _all _of England if it was detonated there and no wizard would have been in the position to so much as detect it, much less actually stop it.

In the end, all his magical training wasn't enough, but a single man, a muggle had destroyed the beast. Not with wand and spells but an arsenal of explosives and muggle weapons. Anthony was mortally wounded when he returned to me, but at least he was at peace. He… died with no regrets knowing his family was returned home, but I can't help but wonder if he didn't regret learning magic."

Dumbledore said, "I believe I understand what you're trying to say-"

"Do you really, Albus? Our world is stagnating! We can no longer afford to separate ourselves from technology or at least not advance our spells accordingly! The entire world could have been destroyed that day! The Wizard's Council, do you know how they reported the incident? They saw the memories and reports of the escaped Aurors, but obliviated the entire troop, told the public that it really was just a Basilisk! Turned a blind-eye and pretended nothing ever happened!"

Dumbledore was deeply disturbed by the concept of a new threat from muggles. Yes the wizarding world was somewhat safe as long as it was hidden, but if it was possible for the entire wizarding world to be wiped out by mere collateral damage how could he ignore this? Is this why Gerrard wanted him to investigate the muggle world?

"The soldier that stopped the… Basilisk, he belonged to an organization. He told Anthony that he was a soldier, a soldier without borders, Militaires Sans Frontières. Your Outer Heaven."

Dumbledore perked up out of his introspection.

"The man's name was Big Boss."

"Big Boss…" Dumbledore repeated.

"So what will you do now, Albus?" Eleniak asked with a serious expression on her face.

Sweat came down Dumbledore's brow. "If Voldemort discovers muggle weapons of this degree, I believe he will not stand idly by and allow such a threat to his power go unchecked, even if they're from origins he considers inferior. And we will have no choice but to work to stop him. This may have been Mr. Barrinalo's goal all along. The boy has effectively forced us to focus on another issue, as he moves about to achieve his own aims nearly unchecked."

Eleniak sighed. "I will contact the friends I have within the Council and prepare a countermeasure for when your Dark Lord or his men set foot on our lands. I will also see if anyone has any information on legilimencers within the muggle government. For you, however… Are you aware that we do not inform the President of magic like you do for your Prime Minister? Now that you've exposed magic to these men, I would advise you prepare to maintain your precious… intelligence. I imagine you're glib and wit will be tested to its limit. I honestly don't know the extent of power of these people. Don't underestimate them."

Dumbledore collapsed into his chair and for the first time in many years he was questioning whether he his goals were correct. He envisioned a tide of change coming over the wizarding world. Dozens upon dozens of different ideas blazed through his's mind, building upon the other and twisting others. After a full minute of extreme mental exertion Dumbledore summed up his thoughts, "Well… bugger."

The Headmistress chuckled at the unusual sight of Albus Dumbledore swearing and what more a Dumbledore nearly devoid of smugness. "If you're finally willing to stop carrying weight of the world alone, then I'm glad to be working with you." Eleniak said in a more friendly tone. She walked around her desk and offered a hand to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore slowly looked up into her eyes and shook it, "Likewise, Anastasia, likewise." A bit of twinkle in his eye returning alongside new hopes.

* * 12 Grimmauld Place * *

Harry and Hermione entered through the front door of Grimmauld Place and ungracefully plopped onto the couch in the living room. The both of them were glad that the dust clouds plaguing the furniture was finally clean along with most of the house. The debris, dust, and litter had been completely cleaned out, nearly returning the manor to its original immaculate luster. Creaking floorboards announcing his presence, Ron came and greeted them from the hallway.

"Hermione, Harry you're back." Ron stated. "How were the heli-planes, mate?"

"_Air_planes, Ron. And everything went okay." Hermione sniffled a bit. "We've got family in Australia, and they've got plenty of money from selling their practice. It's just a little… sad we'll see even less of each other now. I really hope things don't get worse from now on."

"Well things are looking up from my perspective. They've got Umbridge in the loony ward of St. Mungos. Fudge is about to be sacked. Sirius' finally getting his name cleared, even if the Ministry does insist on keeping it low profile. Plus, no more Dursleys. Everything's just brilliant." Harry said happily.

Hermione bit her lip, not really wanting to state the obvious matter that has hovering over Harry the last few days. "I wouldn't say everything Harry. Are you okay? With the… prophecy I mean."

"I don't know what you're talking about Hermione." Harry denied.

"Oh Harry… Ron and I both know that it's been bothering you a lot, since Dumbledore you the entire prophecy, so..."

"So what, Hermione?" Harry snapped. "It doesn't mean anything. Just think about what Barrinalo said, 'prophecies can be broken,' right?"

"Harry… I suppose he could be right, but… he'd have to be the exception, not the rule." Hermione knew why Harry was grasping at straws for any possible way out of the prophecy. If the prophecy was really immutable, like prophecies were suppose to be, then this prophecy was practically a death sentence unless Harry could become stronger. "But you're still going to have to-"

"Have to what!" Harry angrily shouted. "My whole life, Hermione. My whole life has been ruined because of this prophecy! Why do I have to do anything when- Why do I have to give up the rest of my life just because the rest of the wizarding is too thick to protect themselves. How is it my fault that some wanker with coke bottle glasses decided I was the only flippin' way to stop a god damned Dark Lord – no – not Dark Lord, just a bloody god damned terrorist! Let them handle their own problems! For once in my life I'm taking care of me!"

Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders and barked, "C'mon now mate! You don't mean that and you know it! You're Harry Potter and Harry Potter doesn't stand idly by and let innocent people get hurt!" Ron stared directly into Harry's eyes, who remained stony faced. "No matter how thick they are." he added with softer tones.

Harry sighed ruefully, "You're right. But that doesn't change the fact that I still can't do anything against Voldemort."

Ron responded, "Nobody's expecting you to go out and bring his head back on a pike Harry."

Harry gave Ron a like scowl and held up a copy of the Daily Prophet, "THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED THE CHOSEN ONE? WHEN WILL HE DEFEAT YOU-KNOW-WHO?"

"…okay maybe some people are expecting it, but you're still not doing anyone any harm by at least getting yourself set up to take down some Death Eaters. Even the plain folk are doing something." Ron handed Harry one of his father, Arthur's, new anti-dark wizard preparedness pamphlets. "I'm just saying, you don't have to do it all, but you're still going to have to do something."

Hermione lectured. "I've been talking to a few of the Order members and everyone is a little tense because none of them really know what's going on. They all got a short reprieve when You-Know-Who was injured, but the key seems to lay Gerrard."

"It's alright Harry. We'll support you no matter what happens." Hermione consoled.

"She's right. Besides, we still don't know what's going on. You were looking researching some stuff right, 'Mione?"

Hermione eagerly nodded and swung a book the size of an ottoman onto the table from her bag. "Take a look at this."

"Blimey! That's your idea of 'some?'" Ron yelled.

"Honestly Ron. If you've ever done any real research you'd know that compilation books are always this big. Anyway take a look at this, '_The Otherly Worlds of the Ancients_?' by Albus Dumbledore. It's a paper he wrote when he was young."

Harry and Ron gave Hermione blank looks. Ron said, "That's fascinating, but could you maybe…"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Here look, Dumbledore says that the 'ancient archway is decorated with the ancient Northumbrian runes, which represent door, line, key, and æther.' He was talking about the Veil. That means Gerrard really could be from another dimension! A parallel reality!"

"I- So this- WHAt?" Harry spluttered. "That sounds more like something out of Doctor Who, not the magical world!" things were spinning out of hand. It seemed that nothing surrounding Gerrard Barrinalo was without some kind of complicated mess attached to it. Ron could be heard in the background asking, "Doctor what?" but was ignored.

"It's real Harry. I'm fairly certain Dumbledore has come to the same conclusion. It makes sense if you look back on how he acted around Dumbledore when he first came to Hogwarts. He knew things that no one else should have known, but everything he knew seemed a little bit different didn't it?"

Harry replied, "You're right… just before he fought Voldemort he taunted him… he said something about _killing _Voldemort. Not just the normal kind of malarkey when a guy's talking himself up, he was really specific about. Something about feeding him to dragons and freezing him up in a block of ice."

Ron cocked an eyebrow at that statement. "You sure about that, Harry? Sounds like a bunch of jibberish to me. I mean how do you kill a bloke more than once anyway, Dark Lord or not?"

"Phylacteries…"

"What did you say, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Phylacteries. When we were watching the scrying pool in the Room of Requirement he told Dumbledore that Voldemort had some kind of phylactery! I can't believe I didn't think about it more until now."

"I don't think anyone's gonna blame you Mione. We were all a little bit more than knackered back there." Ron supposed.

"I… But still… I should have thought about it more… a phylactery would explain why he didn't die that day all those years ago when…" Hermione gestured at Harry's scar. "A phylactery is like the holy grail for necromancers. It's an object they use to separate the soul from the body and turn into a lich, a soulless immortal magical zombie."

"But… You-know-who might not be pretty looking, but he's no zombie. Don't you turn into a vegetable when your soul gets taken from your body? Like when… the Dementors get you?" Ron asked.

"I don't know." Hermione replied. "I don't make it a habit to study the dark arts in depth. It's just mentioned in the basic advanced texts."

"And Barrinalo would know about it because he has lived through it all for some reason in his world." Harry stated matter-of-factly. "It makes sense, why he called me James back in the Ministry, why he seemed to know Dumbledore so well, why he thought my Dad was still alive… But this is just crazy. Can we even trust information from someone who's from another dimension?"

"I just don't know, Harry, but Dumbledore seemed to accept what he was saying. He didn't correct him or even deny any of the things he said." Hermione replied. "Let's not make any assumptions. Maybe we can just ask Dumbledore more about it. At this point it's important to get our facts straight. Hermione really wished she could give Harry the answers he wanted like she normally did, but this time the magic and circumstances were both beyond her.

Harry rubbed his face with both his hands. "You're right. Let's talk to Dumbledore about it. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to go about fulfilling this damn prophecy even if I wanted to. This is all getting so out of hand. Maybe we should hunt down that wanker. Make him explain himself. I swear things weren't half as insane when even Umbridge was ballsing up everything at Hogwarts last month."

"You got that right mate… at least we could take care of her with a couple of well placed dung bombs." Ron changed the subject. "So… did you see your OWLS yet?"

Hermione immediately twisted her head and hopped to the window and said, "Oh my goodness! That's today isn't it?" as she looked for owls delivering mail. "Did yours come already Ron?"

"Not yet Hermione. Everybody gets theirs at the same time." he explained. "You're not thinking you got anything less than ten "O"s are you?"

"Oh! Don't say that Ron! You'll jinx it!" she blustered

"Jinx it?" asked Harry jokingly. "Hermione, you're a witch!"

"Stop teasing! Ah! HERE THEY ARE!" she shouted, so loudly that for a moment the owls looked like they wanted to recoil before they flew in through the window.

For the next hour the Grimmauld Place household bustled with activity, everyone bouncing with a little more energy with the addition of Harry and Hermione. They talked of new classes to take, Mr. Weasley's promotion, the newly dating Bill and Fleur Delacour, how Professor McGonagall had convinced Horace Slughorn to return to Hogwarts by twisting his ear like a misbehaving second-year, Fred and George's shop, which they had visited earlier, and of Sirius' release and plans for Harry. However, before the day was over a toucan flew in and tossed Harry a large brown letter.

* * Hogwarts: Hidden Archives * *

Dumbledore was patiently looking through all the records of the staff and of certain students, deciphering the words of his own doublespeak. It seems he had thoroughly manipulated the life of this Harry and pinned all the hopes on using the last child of the Potters to defeat Voldemort. However, in contrast to himself, who had invested heavily on building up the character and abilities of James Jr. Potter, his counterpart seemed to be isolating the boy away from the wizarding world. All this merely to protect him? There had to be more of a reason for it… "Ahhhh. Oh dear." thought Dumbledore.

It appeared that since the first year of his arrival Harry has been connected to Voldemort through his scar. Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles and read his notes on Harry's "worrying complaints of scar pain," his "unsettling parseltongue abilities," and finally Harry's "despondently undeniable connection to Tom's mind." There could be only one reason for all these events. Voldemort must have tainted the boy with his Horcrux.

Dumbledore contemplated the possibility. He knew Tom would never knowingly have made the young Potter child into a Horcrux. It simply wasn't wise to place a piece of your soul into an enemy. And given the circumstances of his demise in addition to the complexity of the process required to properly make a Horcrux, it was more than likely the piece of soul that went into young Harry was pure happenstance. Perhaps it was only Lily's sacrifice that kept Harry from succumbing to the Voldemort's possession, perhaps it because the ritual was never completed and only a minute soul fragment attached itself to the scar, or perhaps it was because the magic involved was just simply something completely new. Dumbledore wasn't sure, but he realized this drastically changed the meaning of the prophecy in his counterpart's eyes. "The poor boy." thought Dumbledore. He was in a hurry to find Gerrard but he seriously considering intervening and helping young Harry remove this Horcrux. He knew it was possible to do such things now.

"Ah ha!" said Dumbledore. He had found the coded reports he kept of the Order of the Phoenix and checking through his commands… Here. Nymphadora Tonks was currently in charge of managing Gerrard's tracking charms. He had removed his own tracking charms from Gerrard long ago at the bequest of his new friend, Allidar, but it seems his counterpart had unsurprisingly chosen to use the exact same method of charms. This meant most of the tracking charms would respond to the magical instruments he carried with him. Dumbledore played with the handless watch in his inner robe pocket. Dumbledore thought, "It's best to avoid Nymphadora for now and find Gerrard to change the tracking charms."

With painstaking care, Dumbledore quickly cleaned up the documents and masked any traces of his presence. Exiting the secret chamber, Dumbledore made his way back to the halls. Now was the time to get Lily and find Gerrard as quickly as possible. Suddenly Dumbledore heard a voice call out.

"Oh, Headmaster!" It was Sybil Trelawney, apparently slightly tipsy and smelling of sherry. "I was hoping to speak with you! Now that Umbridge has left, certainly that… equine won't be necessary any longer. Perhaps we could now renegotiate my salary…" she trailed off, mock modesty failed completely by her drunkenness.

Dumbledore decided this would be a good opportunity to joke with Sybil for a bit. "My dear Sybil, surely you must have foreseen what I believe to be fair wages for your return? If not, then perhaps you've not the talent for Divination I originally believed." Dumbledore taunted.

"No! No! I understand perfectly headmaster!" Trelawney stammered nervously. "I foresee our previous agreement will follow through just fine."

"Wonderful, Sybil! I'm certain you'll enjoy working with Firenze as much as he'll enjoy working you. You'll find our new centaur friend will have as little trouble filling in the hollow parts of your schedule as he does your hollow words or body parts." Dumbledore spoke in mock excitement.

"Hollow wor- Wait! Wha-What! What do you mean, Headmaster!" asked Trelawney in a confused tone.

"Oh you know how it is. Firenze has been exiled from his herd for months now, so with no more female centaurs around… Well let's just say centaurs aren't so picky about what their payment comes in." Dumbledore replied. "Or where they come in their payment."

Trelawney seemed to pause for just a second, staring at Dumbledore through her thick rimmed glasses, and then promptly fell backwards and fainted.

Dumbledore chuckled and levitated her onto a nearby bench. Continuing down the hall, he went on his way.

* * Extra * *

In the top office of famed 10 Downing Street, London, the Prime Minister of England was sitting at his desk, speaking on the phone. "Indeed, Mr. President. I understand. Yes of course. I have my orders just like how you have yours."

Suddenly from within the brown oil painting in the far corner of the room, the frog-like little man wearing a long silver wig came to life in a cough. He spoke in a crisp decisive voice, like an announcer for the old kings of England, "To the Prime Minister of Muggles, urgent we meet. Kindly respond immediately. Fudge."

The Prime Minister put up his hand and stuck out a single finger, gesturing for a moment of time. "I have a call from the President of the United States. Do kindly tell your Minister to return in half an hour..." the Prime Minister said.

"That can be rearranged." said the portrait at once, but the Prime Minister thoroughly ignored it and continued listening to the phone.

"We shall arrange for the President to forget to call. He will telephone tomorrow night instead," the now scowling portrait said. "Kindly respond immediately to Mr. Fudge."

"Please hold for a moment Mr. President." the Prime Minister said into the phone. Turning to the portrait, he said, "No, you shall not rearrange anything; I'm already speaking to the President. Would you be so kind," the Prime Minister sarcastically emphasized, "to tell him to wait!" And continued to speak on the phone once, as he disregarded the portrait again.

The little frog-like man puffed up in a fashion similar to his animal look-alike and stormed out of his canvas. In no time at all the phone line in the Prime Minister's office *clicked* and went dead. Simultaneously, his antique marble fire place flared bright green and a portly man burst out of it spinning like a top.

"Ah… Prime Minister," said Cornelius Fudge, preparing to extend his hand before seeing the man before him was not the same Prime Minister he had come to know in the last five years. "Wha-? Who're you! You're not the Prime Minister!" Fudge cried out, accusingly pointing with his finger.

However, unbeknownst to the entire magical Muggle Interference Department, the Prime Minister had switched to codec nearly the instant his phone line had been cut and was continuing his conversation with the US President. "I seem to have an unexpected visitor. Yes the line was secure. No, even I can't handle it he's also in the room now. A was his director during his time in the SAS, I'm sure he's more than capable."

"Are you going to ans-" Fudge tried to scream out, but was silenced when the Prime Minister stuck his hand in front of Fudge's face.

"Yes. I will carry out the diversion now. Goodbye Mr. President." The Prime Minister turned to the portly worn man and asked, "Now, just what can I do for you Mr… Fudge was it?" although his tone indicated he cared nothing for the man.

"I'm here to speak with the Prime Minister, which you are not! So if you don't mind fetching him for me as quickly as possible; I'm on a busy schedule." Fudge instructed in a condescending voice.

"So you are ignorant of the change." responded the Prime Minister in an equally condescending tone. "Quite understandable. I'm Michael O. Davison, new Prime Minister of England. Now, how can I help you Mr. Fudge?"

"What? New Prime Minister of England? Why- How- Why were we not informed! In a time of crisis like this-!" Fudge crumbled his lime-green bowler in his hand. "Wait a minute here! If you're a new Prime Minister, then why aren't you surprised by- by-"

"Magic?" Davison finished. "I've been briefed by the former Prime Minister; He was a capable man, but not one suited for war. Wouldn't you agree?"

"But- but- but no Prime Minister has _ever_ informed his successor of our world. It's a breach of secrecy!" Fudge shouted.

The Prime Minister calmly returned to his seat and offered Fudge the hardest of the chairs in front of his desk. "Is it? It seems that you are obligated to inform the –what do you call us?— the Prime Minister of Muggles of your… magic. So why don't you begin?"

Fudge bristled at the arrogance of this muggle. As if he actually had any actual say or sway in anything of importance. "Well… where to begin?" Suddenly, something this new Prime Minister said finally registered. "Hold on a moment! War? What do you know of the war!"

Davison scowled. "Did you honestly believe your people could run ramshackle through MY COUNTRY and not have any of us know about it!"

Fudge was speechless. "Well…" he said, twirling his squashed hat, "Yes… We've done it before. There's no reason to see why we couldn't do it again."

Prime Minister Davison was angry now, but maintained himself. "Yes… the public believe that it was rusted riggings bringing down the Brockdale Bridge and a hurricane of all things in West England. BUT! Only because we wanted them to! Maniac hooligans in masks, GIANTS, attempted murders and abuductions, the beings hovering all over London, and God knows what other madness your kind has blighted England with. Now… Tell. Me. What. You. KNOW!" demanded Davison, as he rose and pounded his fists on the table.

Never a commanding man, Fudge began to draw back from the angry man. "See here! Y- Y- You can't just order me a- a- around. I-" the portly man began to stutter nervously but was interrupted by the oil painting in the corner.

"To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Requesting a meeting. Urgent. Kindly respond immediately. Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic."

Davison merely glared at the silver-wigged man and sharply replied, "Enter."

For the second time today, a spinning wizard has spun into his office and spreading dust and dirt from the fireplace. Although Davison was inwardly dazed by the display, he maintained a stoic face, an expression trained up from watching the various unique abilities of black ops agents.

Fudge got to his feet, happy to have help dealing with this difficult muggle. Davison continued glaring.

Rufus Scrimgeour with his mane of graying blonde hair stood in the center of the room. "Fudge told you everything?" he asked, striding nover to the door and tapping the keyhole with wand. Davison heard the lock half-click and the cocking of a gun beside him. However the latter sound was completely overlooked by the wizards.

"Not quite." snapped Davison. "In fact he has hardly spoken at all."

Rufus turned a questioning eye to Fudge, who blurted. "No! It's not like that! This- this muggle knows more than he should Minister!"

"Oh? I was under the impression you were suppose to tell me everything I have just told you." rebutted Davison heatedly.

Fudge shrunk under the glares of two Prime Ministers. "Well…"

Davison looked at Scrimgeour and said, "Perhaps you can give me a straight answer now. What are your kind doing to this country?"

Scrimgeour frowned. "It's not 'our' kind. It's the Death Eaters led by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He has openly declared war on the Ministry and has resumed where he left off years ago, killing muggles. After openly revealing himself last May, he has since begun terrorizing England to coerce myself and those in the Wizengemot to stand aside for him."

The Prime Minister defiantly stared at the pair of wizards. "And?" Davison prodded. "Are you going to tell me something that will actually help me defend my people?"

"_You_ won't be doing anything. My visit, aside from keeping you informed as per the laws stated in the original treaty, is to discuss your security." Scrimgeour said shortly. "Right, I'm busy man so let's get down to it."

Davison rubbed his face in annoyance. "I'll decline any idea of security your people might have. If the scene at the West Country was any indication of your ideas of security, I'm better off without any piss-poor job your people can do."

Behind his scowl, Scrimgeour had a precautious look on his face. "What do _you_ know of the attack on the West Country?"

The Prime Minister earnestly asked, "Did you really think you could keep something like two dozen twenty-foot Giants bumbling through the cities secret? If the navy didn't stop most of them at the Channel before they reached shore, you can be sure a lot more people would be dead now!"

Fudge blurted out in a fluster, "What! But what about the obliviators! They should have made ALL the muggles forget everything!"

The Prime Minister crossly explained, "Your 'oblivators' were woefully unprepared for combat and driven back by the UMAs."

"UMAs?" Scrimgeour questioned.

"Unidentified Mysterious Animals. We documented everything from the UMA's landing to your wizard's attempts at stunning the beasts." the Prime Minister clarified. "I don't know how you imagined you were going to stop them when your… spells were bouncing off them, like water on glass. Even with the former Prime Minister's non-intervention orders you can be certain there would have been an air-raid if the Giants hadn't retreated when they did."

Scrimgeour couldn't deny they failed to repel the Giants. He imagined the only reason they stopped rampaging was because Voldemort wanted to maintain the statute of secrecy for now and ordered them back himself. "Now listen here, Prime Minister. We will handle any and all magical threats to England. You only need to maintain your own safety. It'll be a poor lookout for the Muggles if their Prime Minister starts Imperius Curse."

"You're a bigger fool than I thought if you truly believe the leader of a nation will allow a band of over powered rats to run free in his country. I may have been force to classify the incident with the Giants because of my predecessor's policies,"

Scrimgeour and Fudge visibly relaxed at that, happy the secrecy of the wizarding world wasn't completely blown.

"But I'll be forming a committee to handle any and all magical threats that seep out of your… capable hands." the Prime Minister shouted.

Scrimgeour opened his mouth as if to speak, but in an instant moved his wand into the Prime Minister's face and shouted "_OBLIVIATE!_" The Prime Minister immediately adopted a blank expression and stopped speaking.

Fudge looked at Scrimgeour and confusedly exclaimed, "Minister!"

"We don't need any busy-bodies from the Muggles' government getting in our way. If he hasn't spilled the beans to any of his co-workers now, it's best we take care of it now. I'll have his staff and the West Country looked over later." Scrimgeour was worried about these muggles collecting Giant corpses. The Giants usually cannibalize their fallen, but not in the salty depths of the English Channel.

"Just keep the man working as if he has never heard of the Wizarding World, Fudge." explained Scrimgeour impatiently. "I have a meeting with Dumbledore at noon. Let's not tarry here any longer." Both men spun on their heels, stepped into the fireplace and floo'd away.

However, as soon as the two men left, the large cabinet besides the frog-like man's painting screeched, sliding to the corner and completely covered the portrait. The Prime Minister smirked.

"Cameron?"

"Use the codec, commander. And please don't use that name. It's Liquid now. Liquid Snake." a voice said.

"Ha! What's the matter? Too much of a big shot now that you're in FOXHOUND? Those Yanks can't be that much better than the SIS." joked Davison.

Behind the Prime Minister, a tall blonde-haired man decloaked. "All that aside, you know I've always been a big shot, commander. I can't say I don't miss MI6, but things have changed. "

Davison jumped a bit, having misjudged Liquid's position. "Whoa. That optic camouflage is quite something. You've dyed your hair. Now, what do you mean?"

Liquid furled his brow. "I've discovered some troubling things about my… lineage. But that's a matter for another day. Let's talk about the mission."

Davison knew Liquid, a war orphan, cared deeply about his parentage and lent a sympathetic note. "Don't your past consume you, lad. Stiff upper lip and all that. You know better than I do by now." Davison gave an appreciated pat Liquid's back.

"The Minister of Magic, quite an arrogant fool." sniffed the Prime Minister. "And his little toady… to think they'd ever let a man like him run a government… There must be a man manipulating the scenes like."

Liquid shrugged. "A bunch of isolationist like them won't have any big players on the important matters of the world."

The Prime Minister was a little bit perturbed because it was his responsibility to keep these wizards from gaining a foothold in the real governing powers of "muggles." But the Prime Minister supposed what was important now was the mission. "Anyway, I'm sure you've injected the nanomachines into Scrimgeour and Fudge, right?"

Liquid nodded. "But it'll be a matter of how well they take. I don't think they'd have sent me, if the entire thing was going to be that simple."

"Well, the ones in the midget from America took quite nicely. A shame about the virus failing but Hunter's working on that. I've already briefed you on the basics from the information we've gathered. You have to find the phone booth hidden in inner London and gather as much information from their Ministry as possible, understand?" explained Davison. "But it might be a good idea to get a bit of recon done in the less secure 'Diagon Alley' in the Bromley District. You just might find something we missed."

"Yes, commander. However, I must say this is the oddest mission I've been assigned on."

"The sentiment is mutual, but don't think it's any less dangerous, Liquid. You've seen what these men can do. Don't let your guard down." Davison warned. Shaking his head he continued, "To think we've let such a threat go unchecked for so long. I would have been little more than a vegetable if it wasn't for the new nanomachines. You've been subjected to the same new nanomachine therapy, so you'll be fine, but be certain not to let them hit your head more than once."

Liquid stared amusingly at his former commander. "Yes. I'll be sure to avoid being repeatedly shot in the head by strange lights. I believe that was the first thing you taught me wasn't it?"

"Don't be sarcastic, soldier." said Davison, but in a light tone. "We'll be in touch through the codec. Get a move on!"

Liquid saluted and said, "Yes sir!" camouflaged himself once again and exited the office.

END


End file.
